Mum falls asleep first, curled up on the sofa, wine glass still in her hand. She doesn't budge when I try to wake her up. I have to carry Sweetie and Ace up to bed myself, then find a blanket for Mum and put myself to bed too.

We all sleep in till gone ten the next morning. Mum doesn't wake up for ages, so I fix Sweetie and Ace and me some cereal and then, as school has finished, we play school. I sit them at the kitchen table with Princess Rosabelle and assorted toys and we do old-fashioned lessons. If any of the toys are naughty or flop about the bench, I give them a little shake or stand them in the naughty corner with a saucepan for a dunce's cap. Ace is deliberately naughty because he adores standing in the corner, the saucepan at a rakish angle over one eye.

The telephone keeps ringing and I don't know what to do. Mum has forbidden us to answer it but she's still up in her room. She won't know. I think I really need to talk to Dad he'll be so worried about us. I pick the phone up gingerly.

'Dad?' I whisper.

But it's not Dad, it's Rose-May.

'Hello, is that Suzy? Why in God's name haven't you been answering your phone? Anyway, thank heavens you've stopped playing silly beggars. Now listen to me, dear'

'It's not Suzy. It's Sunset.'

'What?' Rose-May sighs impatiently. 'Could you please put your mother on the phone, Sunset?'

'I can't. She's not up yet.'

'Then go and wake her up, it's gone eleven!'

'Yes, but if I do I don't think she'll talk to you.'

'For goodness' sake, has the woman gone off her head? This isn't about Danny. It's about Sweetie.'

'Sweetie?'

Sweetie looks up from helping Princess Rosabelle draw a P and an R on her paper as part of her English lesson. 'What?' she says.

'I need to talk to Suzy about Sweetie. It's urgent,' says Rose-May. 'Oh, for God's sake, I'll drive round. I'll be with you in an hour.'

She hangs up. Sweetie and Ace are staring at me.

'That was Rose-May,' I say. 'But we won't tell Mum, she might get mad.'

'Why did you say my name?' Sweetie asks.

'She says she wants to talk to Mum about you,' I say, bewildered.

'I haven't been naughty, have I?' Sweetie asks anxiously. 'I don't want Rose-May to tell me off. She gets quite cross sometimes.'

'She doesn't want to tell me off too, does she?' Ace asks.

'Rose-May isn't going to tell anyone off, you pair of sillies,' I say.

Sweetie puts her thumb in her mouth nevertheless. She looks very cute in her little bunny nightie, but if Rose-May is really coming round I'd better get us all washed and dressed.

'Come on, kids, upstairs,' I said. 'Bath time.'

Sweetie takes her thumb out and rubs her mouth. 'My teeth feel all funny, Sunset,' she says.

'I think they just need to be brushed,' I say.

I get us all ready. When I've towelled Sweetie and Ace dry, I let them put on the princess party dress and the Tigerman outfit, and I wear my black clothes.

Mum's stirring now, peering round the door at us, rubbing her eyes. 'Oh dear,' she mumbles, 'I have such a headache. Do you think you could make me a black coffee, Sunset?'

She's up and showered and dressed in half an hour, thank goodness. She's tied her hair up in a tartan ribbon and is wearing a little white vest top and skinny jeans. She looks practically Sweetie's age, not like a mum at all.

When she hears a car drive up outside she jumps up. 'Is it Danny?' she asks.

Then she sees it's Rose-May's pink car. 'Oh God, her! Is Danny with her? Oh, typical, getting his wretched manager to do the negotiating! Well, that stroppy cow can just bog off. She's not my manager. I don't have to listen to a word she says.'

Rose-May has her own remote to make the gate open, but she doesn't have a key to the door. She knocks briskly.

'Knock knock knock, but you can't come in,' Mum mumbles.

'Mum, hadn't we better just see what she wants?' I say.

'No, don't let's!' says Sweetie hurriedly.

'Suzy?' Rose-May is yelling through the letterbox. 'Suzy, will you please answer the door? I'm starting to lose patience.'

'As if I care,' says Mum.

'Suzy, this isn't about Danny well, not directly. It isn't about you. I need to have a serious discussion about Sweetie.'

'I don't want a discussion,' says Sweetie.

'Suzy, can you hear me? There's a very good chance we can make Sweetie a huge television star. I know this has come at entirely the wrong time, and Danny has been totally out of order. I've certainly given him a piece of my mind. I have a feeling he's about to crawl back with his tail between his legs. However, like I said, this isn't about Danny, it's about Sweetie. This is the most exciting new television venture I've heard of in a long time.' Rose-May stops shouting and waits for a response.

Mum nibbles one of her false nails. She looks at Sweetie. Sweetie looks at her.

'Mummy, am I going to be a television star?' Sweetie asks. She says it matter-of-factly, as if she's been expecting this to happen sometime soon.

'I I don't know, sweetheart,' says Mum. She looks at me. 'What do you think, Sunset? Do you think she's telling the truth? Or has Danny put her up to this?'

'Why don't we ask her in and find out?' I say. 'You let her in. I'll put the kettle on for a cup of tea.'

I make shooing motions to get Mum to go to the door. Sweetie is already tossing her hair out of her eyes and smoothing the creases in her dress. Ace is pouting.

'Why can't I be the television star?' he protests.

Come to think of it, why can't I? Though I don't really want to go on television especially when Rose-May tells us all about it. She sits in an armchair, wearing a violet shirt and white trousers, looking very bright and businesslike. I've made the tea in a proper pot and set the tray carefully. I hope she'll smile at me and say, 'What a lovely cup of tea, Sunset. How clever of you.' She barely notices.

'The show's going to be called Little Darlings, going out early Saturday evening. It's going to be huge, just you wait and see! The premise is that they do a documentary on a celebrity family every week. They're going to be using your neighbour, the tennis guy, with his little daughter. They're choosing children who take after their famous fathers. No prizes for guessing which footballer they've chosen, with his eldest son. I knew right away that Danny and Sweetie were a perfect fit. That child's such a picture, it would be criminal not to use her.'

I try not to react, but Ace is less reticent.

'Use me, Rose-May,' he says. 'I want to be on television!'

'I'm sure we will see you on television one day, Ace but you're a tad young just now. The children in the show have to be at least six, just so that no tiny tot is exploited in any way. It's perfect for Sweetie as she's only just had her birthday. My guess is she'll be the littlest and cutest.'

'What will she have to do? Just look little and cute?' I ask.

'Oh no, the child has to take after its parent. So here's the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question: can Sweetie sing? Just a little bit, lisp a few words, carry a tiny tune? It's not like they're expecting infant opera, but she will need to sing her little heart out.'

'I can sing,' says Sweetie. She stands up on the coffee table, spreads out her party dress and opens her mouth. She sings my Princess Rosabelle song in a very little voice, wavering at times but she looks so sweet she gets away with it. Mum watches her proudly and claps wildly at the end. Rose-May nods.

'Yep. Just as I thought. She'll walk it. The programme starts with the filmed documentary of the famous pair in their family setting, and then they appear before a live audience in the studio. So Sweetie will do a little act with Danny, singing a duet. I'll try to come up with one of Danny's hits, something really simple. Then Sweetie will round things off with a solo. That Princess song might do it's quite cute and suits her voice. Who sings it?'

'I sing it,' says Sweetie. 'Sunset made it up for me.'

'Really?' says Rose-May. She doesn't look as if she believes it. 'Not the words and the tune? It's your own original song, Sunset?'

I nod, going red.

'Well, perhaps you could be on television too.'

'I can't sing for toffee,' I say.

'Perhaps you could be in the documentary. We could film you making up the song feature both Danny Kilman's daughters. Anyway, we have to get Sweetie approved first. I've told the producer all about her. She can come out here tomorrow say at eleven? You can have Sweetie looking her absolute best by then.' Rose-May looks around the room, shaking her head. 'I know a magic cleaning firm. I'll give them a ring to see if they can rush round later and spruce things up a bit.'

Mum is still nibbling her nail. 'Will Danny have to be here too?' she asks.

'Well, naturally,' says Rose-May. 'And I know just what a grand act you two can put on. We need a total togetherness, family-love vibe for this programme. I'm trying to rationalize all the tacky coverage of the past weeks, saying that it's simply the tabloid press jumping to ridiculous conclusions. Danny was just kindly showing his new young co-star the high spots of London'

Mum says a very rude word.

'Exactly,' says Rose-May. 'But it's going to be worth it for all of us if we do a good smooth PR job on the situation. I think you and Danny belong together, Suzy. If you stay together it helps Danny's career enormously. He's too old a guy to be rushing off with a teenager. It starts to seem downright unsavoury. The press have pointed this out gleefully but it's not too late to salvage the whole situation.'

'I don't know that I want to salvage the situation,' says Mum. 'Danny needn't think he can come crawling back to me just to make himself look good.'

'Fine, dear, if that's what you really want but you still need him to be earning good money if he's going to be paying you alimony. And if you give Sweetie this big showcase, I'm sure she'll hit the floor running and turn into a total child star. I'm not just thinking this country, I think she's got huge Disney potential and I'd be very happy to manage her,' says Rose-May.

'Oh, say yes, Mummy! I want to be a star,' says Sweetie.

So of course she gets her own way. We're all up ultra-early the next morning, making sure the future child star is bathed and brushed and dressed up to the nines. Her own party frock is a little stained and crumpled now, but we swap it with Princess Rosabelle's identical outfit and it fits perfectly. My tummy gets butterflies at the thought of little Sweetie having to sing in front of this unknown producer, but she seems very cool about it, though she's sucking her thumb a lot.

Rose-May drives up with Dad. Thank goodness there's no sign of Lizzi Big Mouth lurking in the car. Dad's wearing his new cowboy hat. He strolls up to the door nonchalantly but he's looking nervous. Mum opens the door. Our parents stand awkwardly together in the hallway.

'Oh, Mummy, oh Daddy!' says Sweetie, running from one to the other.

Ace grabs Dad round his knees and hugs him hard.

Mum and Dad are barely looking at each other. Oh no, please, please, please don't let them start yelling at each other. But they stay weirdly calm.

'Hey, Suze,' Dad mutters.

'Hi, Dan,' says Mum.

We all go into the big living room. The sweetshop is still standing in the corner, reminding us all of the fateful party. Rose-May sits between Mum and Dad and makes bright general conversation. They all look proudly at Sweetie, who sits neatly on a cushion with her skirts spread out around her, like a little fairy-tale Goldilocks. She's got her thumb in her mouth.

'Take that thumb out, darling,' says Mum. 'You don't want to look like a baby, do you?'

'I'm a baby, Mum, look,' says Ace, rolling onto his back and kicking his feet in the air. He nearly knocks Dad's cowboy hat off his head.

'Watch it, son,' says Dad. He yawns and stretches. 'God, I'm tired.'

'You've clearly been having too many late nights,' says Mum bitterly.

'Oh God, don't start,' says Dad. 'Where's this producer woman then, Rose-May? We're all here at the crack of dawn because of her so-called busy schedule. So what's happened to her?'

She arrives ten minutes later. She's quite young and wearing several T-shirts over each other and fashionably ripped jeans, with her sunglasses stuck in her hair like an Alice band. She's called Debs. She smiles at me politely when Rose-May introduces us, she chuckles at Ace but her eyes totally light up when she sees Sweetie.

'Oh, she's gorgeous, Rose-May,' says Debs.

Sweetie smirks.

Debs squats down in front of her and starts chatting to her in a silly voice. 'Hello, my poppet. So you're Sweetie, are you? I love your dress.'

'It's really Princess Rosabelle's but I'm borrowing it,' says Sweetie.

'Oh, how cute,' says Debs uncertainly, thinking Sweetie is rambling.

Rose-May is acting like the hostess, offering tea or coffee, but looking hopelessly at Mum. She takes no notice so I stand up and say I'll go and make it. When I come back, trying very hard to balance everything on my tray. Rose-May and Debs are deep in conversation about Sweetie.

'She seems very young,' Debs says. 'Are you sure she's six?'

Rose-May assures her that Sweetie's definitely had her sixth birthday.

'It's just that we're asking rather a lot of a small child. The filming is very tight, and the majority of the programme will go out live on a Saturday night. I can't afford for anything to go wrong. Any tears or tantrums and the press will crucify me for torturing little kiddies and the programme will be axed. So I need rock-solid children, not little moppets who can easily lose it and go to pieces.'

'Sweetie's a little star in the making,' says Rose-May firmly. 'She doesn't know the meaning of the word temperament. Come on, Sweetie, sing your pretty song for Debs.'

Sweetie stands up, mumbling something indistinctly behind the thumb in her mouth.

'Take your thumb out, darling,' says Mum.

Sweetie takes her thumb out with a little plopping sound and then gasps. There's something sitting on top of her little pink thumb. It's a tooth!

Sweetie stares at it, shocked, and then puts her hand to her mouth. She feels the gap. Her eyes pop with horror. She starts crying, dribbling blood.

'Oh, Sweetie! Oh God, no!' says Mum. 'I told you not to keep sucking your thumb!'

'Hey, it's not her fault. All little kids lose their teeth,' says Dad.

'Come here, darling, give Mummy the tooth. Maybe we can get the dentist to fix it back in? Or perhaps we can get you a false tooth?' says Mum.

'Get a grip, Suzy, the child's six. And she looks sort of cute with a little gap.'