Lily Alone (12 page)

Pixie clapped her hands. We went to find the others. Baxter was curled up on the sofa, his head on a cushion, while Bliss softly patted his back. She was crying too.

‘Hey, hey, no tears now. Mum's coming back soon and meanwhile I'm Lilymum and I'm going to cook you all tea.'

‘If you're Lilymum, am I Bluebell again?' Bliss asked, sniffing.

‘You can be whoever you like, darling. Come on into the kitchen – you can help make the tea too.'

‘What are we having?' said Baxter, his voice muffled by the cushion.

‘Sausages! And then ice cream.'

I cooked the sausages under the grill because I didn't want to risk the frying pan, not with them all jumping about the kitchen with me. I got Baxter to prick them first with a fork. He pretended each one was a little pig and stuck it to death. I let Pixie sprinkle a packet of oven chips onto a tray and then popped them into the oven. I opened a can of beans and let Bliss stir them in the pan, as I knew she'd be the most careful. I took a block of ice cream out of the freezer and lined up the can of cream and some raspberry jam all ready, and poured us each a glass of lemon drink.

The kids got a bit fidgety waiting for the chips to crisp up and I didn't want them bumping into me while I turned the hot sausages so I sent them off to watch telly for ten minutes. I didn't call them back till I'd dished up. I felt so happy when they clapped their hands at their full plates.

We ate heartily. I didn't nag about table manners and let them eat their sausages and chips with their fingers, though I did make them use forks for their baked beans. Then I mashed the ice cream until it was
sort
of whippy and smothered each scoop with cream and jam, creating my very own ice-cream sundaes.

‘Happy now, Pixie?' I asked.

She grinned at me. ‘I love you, Lilymum,' she said, smacking her lips together.

It was the most peaceful evening. We just lolled around the living room watching television. Pixie nodded off where she was so I picked her up and carried her to bed. Bliss was nearly asleep too, snuggling up to Headless and sucking her thumb. Even Baxter was still for once, flopped full-length on the carpet like a tiger-skin rug. I gave them another half-hour and then scooped them up too.

When they were tucked up on the mattress I felt so tired I wanted to crawl in with them, but I was Lilymum now. I cleared up the kitchen, washing up the glasses and plates and putting the pans in to soak. Then I got the broom and swept under the table and wiped it down with a damp cloth. I hummed softly and smiled sweetly even if there was no one to see me. I wanted to look like all those pretty cosy mums you see in the telly adverts. I wasn't imitating
my
mum – she always left the dirty dishes till morning and rarely swept up.

‘Life's too short to faff around with a mop all the time,' she'd say. ‘Why should I waste it on housework?'

I found I quite
liked
getting the kitchen clean and tidy, even though I was so tired. I daydreamed about my own flat in the future. I'd clean it every single day, even though there'd be no children to make it messy. I supposed I'd let Bliss and Baxter and Pixie come on a visit, but most of the time I'd be there alone. I'd play beautiful music and loll on my gorgeous rugs and stare out of my picture windows. My flat would be very high up – the penthouse suite! – so maybe I'd be able to see all the hills and trees of our special park. I wouldn't ever ever ever go off on holiday.

I went into Mum's bedroom and breathed in her special scent. I fiddled with some of her leftover make-up, smearing grey on my eyelids and purply-red on my lips. Then I opened her wardrobe and selected one of her dresses just to see whether I could look properly grown-up. I stuffed my feet into some high heels and wiggled across the carpet to the mirror, but I looked ludicrous, a small shiny clown in a stupid dress. I tore off all the clothes, washed my face, and then got into Mum's bed.

‘Come
back
,' I said into her pillow. ‘I'm not big enough. I don't want to be the mum. Come back right now.'

I felt it so fiercely I was almost certain that Mum in Spain would feel it too. She'd clutch her heart and go, ‘My kids! I'm sorry, Gordon, I have to get home to my kids.' She'd get a taxi to the airport right that minute . . . I thought about her return ticket. What if Gordon wouldn't pay for it? She had her dodgy credit card, but what if that wouldn't work either?

I couldn't stop thinking about it. I started thumping my forehead to try to stop all the worries. I shut my eyes and tried to invent an alternative world. I wasn't Lily Green, older sister of Baxter and Bliss and Pixie. I was Rose – and Mikey and Bluebell and Bunny didn't exist. I had long fair hair down to my waist and big blue eyes and I wore wonderful designer clothes every single day. I didn't have a mother or a father. No, I had a lovely kind fabulously rich uncle just like Mr Abbott at school, and he indulged me terribly. He took me out to a West End show every night, and afterwards we had tremendously grand suppers at posh restaurants with waiters in fancy outfits and we both drank champagne. At weekends my uncle took me to art galleries and we walked round all the paintings hand in hand. At the end of each visit my uncle told me to choose my favourite painting and then he had it wrapped and sent to me.

When I woke in the middle of the night, the mum thoughts were whirling around in my head again and I couldn't pretend vividly enough to blot them out. I didn't realize I was crying until I heard someone creep into Mum's bedroom and wriggle into bed with me.

‘Lily?' said Bliss, her cold little fingers patting me. ‘Lily, don't cry. It will be all right.'

‘No, it
won't
,' I sobbed.

‘Yes it will. You'll look after us. You're great at looking after us. Better than Mum,' said Bliss.

‘I'm sick of being the mum.'

Bliss was quiet for a moment. Then she put her arms round my neck. ‘It's OK then,
I'll
be mum tomorrow,' she said.

‘Oh, Bliss,' I said, crying more.

‘I'm the mum and you're my little girl and I'm going to give you a great big cuddle and then you're going to go fast asleep,' said Bliss.

Bliss couldn't look after anyone, not even herself. But when she held me, she did feel a bit like a real mum. I fell asleep again and we didn't wake up till morning.

There was no sound coming from Baxter and Pixie so we left them sleeping. Bliss and I stayed curled up, still playing that she was the mum and I was the little girl.

‘I'm hungry, Mum,' I said, in an ickle-baby voice.

‘Don't worry, baby, I'll feed you,' said Bliss.

I was expecting pretend food, but she slipped out of bed and disappeared into the kitchen. She came back with a packet of crisps.

‘Here you are, darling, baby rusks,' she said, shaking the packet at me.

She got back into bed and started feeding me crisps, popping several into her own mouth too.

‘Oh dear, we're getting a lot of crumbs in the bed,' I said. ‘Mum will murder us when she comes home.'

‘No, we'll murder her for leaving us all alone,' said Bliss.

‘Hey! Bliss, that's not like you!'

‘I'm not me any more. We're all getting different.'

‘What, you mean Baxter's very quiet and gentle and sensible?' I said.

We both giggled and dabbed our fingers round the packet for the last little crumbs of crisp.

‘We won't need any breakfast now,' I said, but when the others woke up and we were all sitting at the kitchen table, Bliss and I ate a mound of toast. I was a bit worried about the bread running out, but I couldn't help it. I didn't feel exactly
hungry
, but there was an empty sick feeling inside me and food helped fill it up.

I was just buttering a third piece of toast when there was a knock on the front door. We all stared at each other.

‘Mum!' said Pixie.

‘No, it won't be Mum, silly. Mum's got a key.'

‘Dad!' said Baxter.

‘Your dad's in Scotland, it won't be him. Anyway, he's got his own key too. Listen, we won't answer it, just in case,' I whispered. ‘Keep quiet, now.'

We sat still, not even munching. There was another knock – and then the letter box rattled.

‘Lily! Lily Green, are you there? It's me, Sarah,' she called.

She lived on the next floor up from us, and was in Mr Abbott's class too.

‘What does she want?' I decided I'd better go and see if she was going to carry on like that. I didn't want Old Kath hearing her and shuffling down the balcony to investigate.

I went to the door and opened it a crack, peering round. Yes, it was Sarah in her green checked school dress.

‘Aren't you up yet?' she said, squinting at my pyjamas.

‘No, I've got a bug. We've all got it. Don't come too near, Sarah.'

‘OK, don't breathe your germs on me! Anyway, Mr Abbott wants to know if you're coming on the gallery trip tomorrow. He says to tell you he's saved a place on the coach.'

‘Oh! But I haven't paid.'

‘He says you're not to worry about that. It sounds as if he's going to pay for you.'

‘Really! Oh, he's so lovely!'

Sarah wrinkled her nose. ‘Mr Abbott? He's not lovely, he's weird.'

‘No, he's not.'

‘Well, you would say that, because you're a bit weird too,' she said.

‘Will you tell him thank you?'

‘Yes, OK. And I'll say you're coming?'

I hesitated. I badly wanted to go on the school trip with Mr Abbott. I imagined this gallery lined with famous paintings and Mr Abbott and me walking round it together. Mr Abbott would tell me about each painting and then ask me solemnly if I liked it, acting like he really wanted to know . . .

‘I'll come if – if I'm better,' I said.

Pixie scrabbled at my back, squeezing through my legs.

‘Mum?' she said.

‘What?' said Sarah. ‘I'm not your mum, dopey!'

‘Pixie's not very well either,' I said, picking her up. ‘Come on, darling, we'd better put you back in bed. Bye, Sarah.'

I shut the door on her. Pixie struggled with me.

‘Not bed, not bed, don't want to go back to bed.'

‘No, I was just pretending. It's OK, Pixie.' I let her run back to the kitchen. I stayed in the hall, thinking about lovely Mr Abbott. Could I risk going to school on Wednesday? Could we all go? But they'd wonder where Mum was – they'd certainly ask at the nursery – and Pixie would talk. Was there any way she could stay at home? Bliss could perhaps look after her? No, Bliss was far too little. She could maybe manage Pixie but she'd never be able to control Baxter, he walked all over her. I couldn't leave them. I couldn't go to the gallery.

I stamped back to the kitchen, wishing I was an only child. Everything the kids said got on my nerves. I'd planned to take them back to the magic garden in the park but it was a grey, gloomy day, already drizzling, and by the time we'd all got dressed it was really pouring with rain.

‘Well, we'll just have to stay in instead,' I said, sighing.

‘
I'm
going out,' said Baxter. ‘I don't mind a bit of rain. I'm going to that park.'

‘No, you're not. No one goes out when it rains like this. People will notice and think it's weird.'

‘No one will see me if no one goes out,' said Baxter triumphantly. ‘I'm going, so there. You can't stop me.'

‘Stop being such a pain, Baxter.'

‘No,
you're
the pain, bossing us about. I'm nearly as big as you and I'm the boy anyway.
I
should do the bossing. So you can just shut your big mouth, right? I'm going
out
.'

‘Oh, go out then, see if I care,' I snapped.

‘Right! Well, I'm
going
,' said Baxter.

‘OK. Go!' I said.

‘Yes, watch me,' said Baxter, and he marched out. He slammed the front door behind him as hard as he could.

‘Oh, great, Baxter, let Old Kath know too,' I muttered.

‘Baxter's naughty,' said Pixie.

‘Yes, he is,' I said.

‘He won't really go to the park, will he?' said Bliss. ‘He might get lost.'

‘Good,' I said.

Bliss started nibbling at her fingers.

‘Don't look so anxious. You're such a wuss, Bliss. Of
course
he won't be going all the way to the park. He might go as far as the den, but I doubt it. He's probably just lurking on the balcony. He wants us to worry but I'm not worried one little bit. Now, are you girls going to help me wash up?'

I fetched a chair for Pixie and she stood at the sink with Bliss, washing up the dishes. They poured so much washing-up liquid into the bowl that soapsuds came up to their armpits. When they'd done all the dishes I fetched my old Barbie dolls and they gave them a deluxe spa treatment.

I kept listening out for Baxter. Every now and then I thought I heard him and went running to the door, but there was never anyone there. I hung over the balcony, peering along to the playground, but I couldn't see him there. It was still bucketing down, so if he had any sense whatsoever he'd be huddled up in the den, out of sight.

I waited until the Barbies had had their plunge baths and massage and their hair newly styled, and I'd organized a glamour photo shoot in the studio under the kitchen table. Bliss and Pixie laughed uproariously as I made the Barbies show off their pointy chests and strut about provocatively, but Bliss's laughter sounded high-pitched and hysterical, and I knew she was near tears.