I look at her anxiously. He wasn't lovely at all, he totally ignored her. I get that panicky feeling like when you have a bad dream and wake up in the middle of the night with your heart pounding and you don't know what's real and what's not.

The cabbie chatters on, talking about seeing Danny on telly, the famous interview when he got fed up with the silly questions halfway through and went lurching off, saying stuff that had to be beeped out. We've got a tape of it and we've played it so often we're both word-perfect for the full twenty-three minutes, and when we get to the end we always chant along with Danny: Oh beep off, you silly beeping beeper, and then roar with laughter.

Mum and the taxi driver are laughing now but I don't want to join in. I don't want to think about what's going to happen if we ever get to Robin Hill. It's all much too scary, so I lean against Mum and shut my eyes and sing a Danny song in my head to blot out their voices.

'Ah, has she nodded off?' says the taxi driver.

'She's had a very exciting day, bless her,' says Mum, patting my shoulder.

'You seem very close, you two.'

'Oh yes, we're all in all to each other, Destiny and me,' says Mum.

'Watch out when she gets to be a teenager. I used to be real close to my daughter, and she thought the world of her old dad, she did though, mind you, she could always twist me round her little finger. But now oh, Lord help me, you ask her to do the simplest thing and she stamps around and sighs, and she's like, Oh, Dad, you're so stupid. If I'd talked to my old man like that I'd have got a slap round the earhole, but kids today, they're as lippy as anything, and there's nothing you can do.'

'Oh, I expect my time will come, but just now my girl's a total darling. I don't know what I'd do without her or what she'd do without me.' Mum's voice goes shaky, and I yawn and snuggle down with my head on her lap, trying to distract her, worried she's going to start crying all over again.

I'm glad we haven't had much to eat because I'm starting to feel sick all hunched up like this, and it would be awful if I threw up in the guy's cab when he's been so kind to us.

It takes such a long time to get to Putney. I really do doze off and dream of a great high fairground roller-coaster. Mum and I are crouched in a car, swooping up and down, screaming our heads off. Way ahead of us we see Danny and his family. They're almost at the end of their ride. If they get off before us, we'll lose them for ever. Mum decides we'll have to jump for it, jump all the way down. She keeps telling me it'll be fine, taking hold of me, shaking me, but I can't jump, it's too high and scary, so I'm stuck going round and round on the ride for ever 'Destiny! Come on, sweetheart, wake up!' says Mum.

I'm back in the taxi and it's stopped moving. We're suddenly still.

'Did we crash?' I mumble.

'No, silly, we've just got to Putney. We have to get out now,' says Mum. 'Thank you so much for the lift. Here, I've only got a couple of quid I know it's peanuts, but take them anyway as a kind of tip.'

'No, you hang onto what you've got, love. I hope you get to Robin Hill OK. I'd take you there myself but I'm bushed. I need to go and kip down, snuggle up with the missus. You going to be all right now, you and the kid?'

'We're going to be just fine and thank you so much,' says Mum. 'Say thank you, Destiny.'

I thank him obediently. Mum leans over and gives him a kiss, but I don't go that far. She waves goodbye to him until the taxi is a little black dot and disappears.

'What a lovely guy,' says Mum. 'See, Destiny, there are still some genuinely gold-star people in this world. Imagine, a cabbie giving us that great long ride for nothing. Now all we have to do is hitch another lift . . .'

We walk along Putney High Street until Mum selects a suitable spot where the shop lights make us clearly visible. There are any number of cars still swooping past even though it's so late no, so early now but they whizz past in an instant. Then another taxi stops and Mum gives a little excited whoop, but this time the cab driver shakes his head at her when she says we have no money.

'Do me a favour, I've got a living to earn,' he says, and drives off.

So we're back to hitching again, and now I'm so tired I can hardly stand upright. Mum sits me down in a shop doorway and stands by herself on the edge of the kerb, waving her arms about. Cars stop every now and then, but either they think Mum's on her own and drive off when she calls to me, or they've never heard of Robin Hill.

'Maybe we'd be better off walking?' Mum suggests, sighing but then a lorry stops.

'Where are you going to, darling?'

'Robin Hill.'

'Oh yeah? OK, hop in.'

'I've got my daughter.'

'She can hop in too.'

'You're actually going to Robin Hill?'

'I'm going to Kingtown. That's just past it, so I'll shove you out on my way, if that's OK.'

'Oh, it's more than OK, it's absolutely wonderful!' says Mum.

She takes hold of my hand and we clamber up into the cab. The lorry driver shakes us both by the hand.

'Hi, girls,' he says. 'I'm Ginger, for obvious reasons.'

He's got bright red curly hair and a cheery freckled face. He doesn't look like a madman who will axe us both to death, but I'm still wary, though Mum's grinning at him like he's her best friend.

'Well, nice to meet you, girls,' says Ginger. 'So how come you're out and about at this mad hour? Partying all night, eh?' He pauses. 'Oh dear, not doing a runner from the old man?'

'I haven't got an old man and I don't want one either,' says Mum. 'It's kind of complicated, Ginger. We're going to be like surprise guests.'

'I see,' says Ginger, though he clearly doesn't. 'Oh well, it's great to have a little company in the cab. Someone to chat to. When I'm working nights I tend to get a bit dozy round about this time don't worry, don't worry, I'm not about to nod off . . .' He lowers his head for a split second and gives a snorty snore and then bellows with laughter. 'Your faces! No, don't worry, girls, you're safe with me.'

We are safe too, all the way down the dual carriageway. Then he slows down and stops in a hotel car park.

'Here we are. Told you I'd get you here safe and sound,' says Ginger.

Mum and I sit up straight, rubbing our eyes. I think we both dozed off. Mum's ponytail has collapsed altogether and the make-up's smeared round her eyes, but she still smiles radiantly.

'We're here, at Robin Hill?' she says.

'Yeah, just down that lane.'

'Then you're a gold-star darling, Ginger,' says Mum, and she kisses him on the cheek.

I mumble thank you and hope I won't have to kiss him too. We jump down from the lorry cab and Ginger blows kisses to us as he drives off, his snub nose wrinkling.

'Doesn't he look like a pig when he does that!'

'That's a horrid thing to say, Destiny,' says Mum, but she giggles. 'He didn't act like a pig though, did he? He was a total sweetheart and the taxi driver too. We've been so lucky.'

Mum's still smiling, though she's wrapping her arms tight round herself and stamping her legs, shivering.

'What are we going to do now then, Mum?' I say in a tiny voice.

She looks at me reproachfully. 'For a bright girl you can be very slow on the uptake, Destiny! We're going to find Danny's house.'

I look longingly at the hotel. I think of a hot bath, a clean bed with white sheets . . . Mum's looking too. She fiddles with her tangled hair.

'It would be lovely to have a bit of a wash and brush-up first,' she says. She takes my hand. 'OK, let's give it a go.'

She walks towards the entrance of the hotel. I try to pull her back.

'Mum! We can't! We haven't got any money!'

'We can always do a runner in the morning,' says Mum.

My heart starts thumping. Is she serious? She marches through the glass door into the hotel lobby. She's serious all right.

There's no one in the hotel lobby. No one at the reception desk. No one. Mum peers around. She looks at the soft purple sofa right in front of us.

'Well, we can always have a kip on that,' she says. 'Go on, lie down, darling. You look all in.'

I stand there, swaying on my feet, and then move unsteadily towards the sofa. I touch it cautiously, like it might be alive and then I sit on the edge. It feels so good I can't help leaning back and then I lie down properly and put my feet up.

'That's my girl,' says Mum. 'Here, budge up, make room for me.'

But as she comes to join me, a man walks out of a room at the back and stares at us.

'Good Lord, where did you spring from?' he says. He glares at me. 'You can't sleep there!'

I jump up off the sofa. He peers at the cushions, as if I might have left muddy marks all over them.

'My daughter's tired. We'd like a room, please,' says Mum, her chin up.

The man looks at his watch ostentatiously. 'Our guests don't usually arrive at this time,' he says.

'Well, we've been to a party,' says Mum. 'And now we'd like a room.'

He sighs, but turns on his computer. 'Is it just for one night?'

'Yes please.'

'May I have your credit card?'

Mum bites her lip. 'Surely we pay when we check out?'

'Yes, of course, but I need to take your credit card details now.'

'Oh, right.' Mum make a pantomime of checking her bag and her jeans pocket. The man waits impassively. 'Oh no!' she says. 'I can't find it.'

'Now there's a surprise,' says the man.

'I don't know what to do,' says Mum.

'Well, I'm afraid you can't stay here. Goodbye,' says the man.

I grab Mum's hand. I don't want her to bluff any more, it's so awful. But she takes no notice.

'Where on earth can I have lost it?' says Mum. 'I'll have to ring the credit card people in the morning. Can't we simply have a room for the rest of the night and I'll sort out all the financial details later, after breakfast?'

'I'm sorry, it's a strict company rule. Guests have to provide their credit card details when they check in.'

Mum sighs. 'Well, can my daughter and I at least use your ladies' room or is there a strict company rule that says little girls can't use your toilet?' says Mum.

The man taps his fingers on the desk impatiently. 'Very well. But be quick about it.'

We aren't quick at all. We don't just use the toilet. We wash our faces in the sink. Mum takes her top off and washes under her arms and soaks her filthy feet. She reapplies her make-up and combs her hair and fixes a fresh new ponytail, and then brushes mine into place too. We don't have toothpaste or brushes. Mum tries rubbing a tiny bit of soap around her teeth instead but it makes her gag.

'There, we look a bit better now,' she says. 'Do you want to wash your feet too, Destiny? Mine feel so much better now.'

'No, Mum. We've been ages. That man will come banging any moment. Please let's go.'

'You're such a little worrypot,' says Mum, giving me a kiss on the end of my nose. Then she has to scrub it with toilet paper because she's left fresh lipstick marks all over it.

'Dear, oh dear, we can't have you looking like Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer when you meet your father,' she says.

The man is waiting just outside the door of the ladies' toilet, looking grim. He pokes his head inside, obviously checking to see we've not smeared the sinks or peed on the pristine floor.

'I told you to be quick about it. What were you doing, having a bath?'

I snigger anxiously, but he's not being funny.

'Now hop it, both of you.' He glares at Mum. 'You're lucky I haven't called the police.'

'Oh, is it a crime now to ask for a room in your poxy hotel?' asks Mum. 'Don't you fret, I wouldn't stay here if you paid me now.'

She takes my hand and marches out in her high heels, ponytail swinging, while I scamper along beside her.

'Oh, Mum, you don't think he will call the police, do you?' I ask.

'Don't be daft, Destiny. Of course he won't. Cheer up, darling. We're here, in Robin Hill.' She strokes the street sign lovingly, as if it's a cat. 'There! Come on.'

There's a white wooden barrier across the road and a hut beside it, but thank goodness there's no one in it. We walk along the pavement into the Robin Hill Estate, feeling like Dorothy stepping out of her front door into Oz. We're only a few steps away from the busy main road and yet we seem to be right in the countryside: there's a canopy of trees overhead and thick hedges like the grassy path. Birds are already starting to sing in the trees, though there's still no sign of dawn. It's so dark here. I grab Mum's hand and hold it tightly.

'Isn't it lovely here?' she whispers. 'I knew Danny would live in a wonderful place.'

'Do you really think you'll know which is his house?'

'Of course!' says Mum, but now she doesn't sound so sure.

As we walk on we discover there are many houses, but most of them are hidden away down long gravel driveways. All you can see are big security gates. Mum climbs up a rung or two on one gate to see if she can spot the house and a light comes on out of nowhere, making us both gasp. Mum jumps down and we make a run for it, right up the lane and round the corner. We flatten ourselves behind a tree, hearts thudding, waiting for shouts and running footsteps and police sirens, but the light has gone off now and there is utter silence.

'Whoops!' Mum says, giggling shakily.

'Mum, they'll think we're burglars and lock us up!'

'Oh, Destiny, stop it, you're doing my head in. I'm trying to stay positive here. I'm pretty sure that wasn't Danny's house. He's got a lovely garden. I've seen photos of him playing with the children in it. He's obviously such a lovely caring dad. Can't you see, you've been missing out all these years, darling. I want him to start caring for you too, just a little bit. It's high time.'

'But, Mum'