Longest Whale Song (2 page)

Jack says I should swap schools altogether and go to Garton Road. I never ever want to go there, thank you. Mum says she understands, and I don't have to. I only do what Mum tells me. I don't listen to Jack, because he's not my dad.

I suppose he
is
my stepdad now, because Mum and Jack got married. I always fancied being a bridesmaid. Sally's been a bridesmaid
three
times. She got to wear a pink silk dress with rosebuds, a deep blue dress with matching deep blue satin dance shoes, and an apricot dress with a pearl trim and a little string of real pearls around her neck.
And
she was a flower girl when she was very little, in a white dress with a coral satin sash. I didn't want Mum to get married, especially not to Jack, but I hoped at least I'd get to be a bridesmaid at last. But they didn't have a proper wedding at all.

‘I don't think I'd fit into a white meringue gown,' Mum said, because she was already getting big with the baby.

She wore a pale grey dress with a red ribbon trim, and bright red shoes. Jack laughed and called her his scarlet woman. He just wore the suit he keeps for parents' evenings, and he got a stain on his new blue tie at the meal in the pub afterwards. They didn't
have
a bridesmaid as it was just a register-office wedding.

Mum said I could have a new dress all the same. We went all round Flowerfields shopping centre looking for one. We couldn't find any that were right. They were either much too little-girly, all frilly and flouncy, or much too cool and slinky. I
quite wanted one of the cool, slinky dresses, but Mum said she wasn't having me looking like I was going out clubbing. So I ended up with this black and white polka-dot dress with a bow at the back, and black patent strappy shoes. I'd always longed for a black dress because I thought it would look so grown up – but I wasn't sure about black with white spots.

‘Oh, look, it's a lovely little Dalmatian!' said Jack.

I nearly kicked him with my new black patent shoes. He gave me a present after the wedding: three little silver bangles. I loved the way they looked, so sleek and shiny. I loved the way they felt, sliding up and down my arm. I loved the way they sounded,
clink clink clink
. I haven't actually worn them since the wedding day. I don't want to, because Jack gave them to me.

It was a very
little
wedding. Mum's parents died before I was born so I don't have a granny or a grandad. I suppose I've got my
dad's
parents, but we don't ever see them. I haven't seen my dad for ages. He always sends me Christmas presents, though they're usually a bit young for me. He doesn't always remember my birthday.

Jack's parents came to the wedding. His mum was wearing a very tight shiny dress and talked all
the time. His dad was in a wheelchair and didn't talk at all. I didn't like either of them much and I don't think they liked me.

‘That little miss hasn't got much to say for herself, has she?' said Jack's mum. ‘Looks a bit sulky, if you ask me.'

‘Our Ella's a little star, and bright as a button,' said Jack.

I didn't want
him
to stick up for me. And I'm not
his
Ella. I'm just Mum's.

She invited her best friend, Liz, to the wedding, and some of the teachers from Garton Road. Jack had a couple of silly mates, but there were only thirteen of us at the wedding.

‘Oh dear, unlucky thirteen,' said Jack's mum.

‘Hang on, there's
fourteen
of us counting the baby,' said Mum, patting her tummy.

They went away for a honeymoon weekend to London.

‘That's not fair, Mum,' I said. ‘I want to go to London too. You've been promising for ages we could go to the Aquarium and the Natural History Museum and on the London Eye.'

‘Yes, I know, darling, but we're not
going
to those places. This is just a tiny little honeymoon. We're going to stay overnight in a hotel and maybe go out for a meal, that's all. I promise we'll go to all your
special places another time, in the holidays.'

They might not have gone to the Aquarium or the Natural History Museum, but they
did
go on the London Eye – I saw their photos. It was so mean of them to go without me.
I
wanted to goup on the giant wheel and see out all over London and pretend I was flying. Sally's been on the London Eye and she says it's brilliant.

I had to stay at Liz's flat. She's OK, but she doesn't really know much about children. She made us spag bol
and
pancakes for tea, which was double-yummy, and then she opened this big box of chocolates and said I could eat as many as I wanted. So I did, and then I felt really, really sick in the night.

I couldn't sleep properly anyway, because we'd watched this horribly scary DVD about people in a haunted house. I told her I'd watched it heaps of times already and she believed me. I wanted to show off to Sally that I'd seen a real 18 movie – but I so wished I hadn't when I went to bed on Liz's sofa. Every time I closed my eyes I felt I was in that haunted house and the ghosts were about to get me.

Liz slept ever so late on Sunday morning. I didn't like to switch on the television in case it woke her up. I'd brought a Tracy Beaker book with
me, but I only had twenty pages to go and I finished it too quickly.
Tracy
wouldn't stand for her mum getting married. I had a good look through the big fat paperbacks on Liz's bookshelf, but they all seemed to be about stupid women wanting to meet men. I didn't want to read about
that
. So I just lay there on the sofa for
hours
, missing Mum.

I cuddle up closer to her now, on the bed.

‘We never got to go to the Aquarium and the Natural History Museum and the London Eye in the holidays, Mum. Can we go today?'

‘There's not time now, love.'

‘Next Saturday then?'

‘I'm too tired for a long day out in London at the moment, sweetheart. I promise we'll go in a few weeks, when I've had the baby.'

‘But then you'll have to push the baby buggy, and it'll keep crying, and needing to be fed and changed and all that stuff.'

‘No, no, we'll leave the baby with its daddy for the day,' says Mum.

‘Oh! OK then! So Jack's going to look after the baby too?'

‘Of course he is. Even though he hasn't got a clue about babies. He doesn't even know which end the nappy goes on!'

‘Really?'

‘He'll find out soon enough. He's very keen. He bought a giant Lego set the other day. I'm sure he thinks the baby's going to be sitting up and making plastic planes and cars by the time it's six months old.'

‘Jack is so silly,' I say happily. I'm starting to hope the baby
will
be a little boy. Then he can play with Jack all the time while Mum and I do stuff together.

I reach out and gently pat Mum's huge tummy. ‘Hello, baby. Are you a boy or a girl?' I ask it.

I can feel it kicking as if it's trying to answer me.

‘I might be a boy. I might be a girl. You'll just have to wait and see,' Mum says, in a teeny baby voice.

I laugh and Mum laughs, and her tummy wobbles as if the baby is clutching its sides and laughing too.

‘Did I kick like that when I was in your tummy, Mum?' I ask.

‘You kicked, but not like this baby. It seems so big and strong. Maybe we'll have to call him Samson if he's a boy,' Mum says. Her voice is a bit gaspy and she clutches her huge tummy.

‘Oh, Mum, is it really kicking you so hard that it hurts?' I ask.

‘No, it's not the kicking. My tummy just felt funny.'

‘What kind of funny?'

‘I'm not sure. It's OK again now. Let's cuddle up and have a little nap, eh?'

She can't curl around me because the big bump of the baby gets in the way. I curl around her instead.

‘You're like a big mother whale,' I say, patting her.

‘Thanks a bunch,' says Mum.

We settle down and I very nearly go to sleep, but then I notice Mum is breathing in that slow, funny way again.

‘You're practising your breathing, Mum!' I say.

‘I'm doing it for real, sweetheart. I think the baby's started to come,' says Mum.

I sit bolt upright, terrified. ‘Oh, Mum! What shall I do? How will we get you to hospital? Jack's not here to drive you!'

‘It's OK, don't panic! We don't have to do anything for ages and ages. You took a whole day to be born. I'm sure this baby will be the same. We'll have a cup of tea and then we'll sort out our suitcases. Mine's already packed with a new nightie and a set of baby clothes. We'll just have to get yours sorted, with your pyjamas and washing things and a book to read.'

‘I'll need heaps of books. It's ever so boring at Aunty Liz's.'

‘Well, it's very good of her to offer to have you. She's not really into children.'

I'm not sure
I
am either. I don't ever want to have a baby. Mum keeps saying she's fine, but every now and then she clutches her tummy, and she's started to close her eyes and groan.

For the first time ever, I'm glad when Jack gets home.

‘Oh, Jack,' Mum says. She puts her arms round him and hugs him hard.

‘Hello, my Super-Sue. This is a lovely welcome,' he says, kissing her.

He waggles his fingers at me. ‘Have you two girls been having fun?' he asks.

‘The baby's coming!' I say.

‘What? Really? You should have phoned me,' he says. ‘Oh my goodness, sit down, Sue. Or should you lie down? Or shall I take you straight to the hospital?' He's in a right state, as if he's terrified too.

‘Stop flapping, Jack, I'm fine! Ella and I are all packed. I've phoned Liz and told her we'll drop Ella off on the way to the hospital. But we don't need to go for ages yet.' Mum breaks off, clutching her tummy and gasping.

Jack puts his arm round her, staring at her anxiously. She does her breathing, in and out, in and out.

When she straightens up at last, she goes, ‘Phew!' and pulls a funny face.

‘We're going to the hospital
right now
,' says Jack firmly. ‘Come on, Ella!'

IT TAKES ME
ages to get to sleep at Liz's. I keep thinking of poor Mum in pain in the hospital, breathing in and out, in and out, in and out. I breathe along with her, keeping her company long distance.

I get up to go to the loo, and Liz calls out from her bedroom. ‘Are you all right, Ella?'

‘Yes. Maybe. No,' I say, and start to cry.

Liz gets up and comes to find me. She stands awkwardly in front of me. ‘Oh dear. Are you crying?'

‘No.'

‘Silly question. And silly answer,' she says, and she puts her arms round me.

I howl all over Liz's silk pyjamas while she pats my back and strokes my hair.

‘I want Mum,' I wail.

‘I know. But she's otherwise engaged right now.'

‘She will be all right, won't she, Liz?'

‘Of course. Come on, Ella, she's not ill, she's simply having a baby. Millions and millions and millions of women have babies all over the world all the time.'

‘Yes, but sometimes they get ill too. Sometimes they
die
,' I sob.

‘Stop it now. Your mum will be absolutely fine. She's maybe even had the baby already.'

‘No – Jack said he'd phone us.'

‘But he wouldn't phone in the middle of the night, sweetie. Which it is. Now, let's find you some tissues, because you're using my PJs like a giant hankie.'

I mop myself up while Liz puts the kettle on.

‘We'll have a cup of camomile tea. That will make us both sleepy,' she says.

Camomile tea is
disgusting
. I don't like to say anything because Liz is trying to be really kind to me – but she sees my face.

‘Would you sooner have real tea? What do children like to drink? I know, hot chocolate!'

I don't really want hot chocolate either, but she makes it specially. I lick all the frothy cream off the top. Liz sips her camomile.

‘Didn't Peter Rabbit drink camomile tea?' she asks. ‘I've got the new baby a lovely little white sleepsuit with Peter Rabbit embroidered on the chest. There's a big fluffy white blanket to match. Shall I show you?'

She unwraps them. I hold the little white suit in my arms. It's as if I'm holding a very tiny floppy baby already. I start rocking it without really thinking.

‘There! You'll be a lovely big sister,' says Liz.

‘No, I won't,' I say. I drop the sleepsuit. ‘I don't want anything to do with this baby. I don't
like
babies.'

‘Well, I'm with you there, chum,' says Liz.

‘I don't like Jack either,' I dare say.

‘Mm. He's OK, I suppose. He's jolly and kind, and quite sweet in his own way.'