The Mum-Minder

by Jacqueline Wilson

  'I don't think I am fine after all,'

  she sobbed. 'And I phoned Nan to see if she can take over tomorrow 29

  but Grandad's really bad and she's starting to sneeze all over the place herself.'

  I felt ever so ever so ever so mean. I hadn't helped Mum one little bit.

  Gemma's mum finished at court

  early and came round to see how Mum was.

  She took one look and shook her head.

  30

  'You've definitely got flu. Go on up to bed this instant. I'll look after the kids until the other mums get here.

  Sadie will help me, won't you, pal?'

  'Yes, of course.'

  'Well, all r i g h t t h e n , ' M u m groaned. 'But I'll be better tomorrow, I promise.'

  'That's nonsense,' said Gemma's mum. 'You'll have to take to your bed and stay there.'

  'But what about the babies?' said Mum, sniffling.

  'We'll sort something out, won't we, Sadie?' said Gemma's mum.

  'You bet,' I said. 'Us girls have got to stick together.'

  31

  You'll never guess what! I've been a real policewoman today. Gemma's mum took me to work with her. And her Gemma. And our Sara. And

  Vincent and little Clive. All of us.

  My Mum has got flu. Gemma's

  mum drove her to the doctor's last night. Mum's got to stay in bed today and tomorrow and the next day. So has Nan. She's got it too.

  1 can't have flu. I'm never ill,'

  Mum moaned. 'I can't let you all down. I've got to look after the kids.'

  32

  'Well, you are ill, whether we like it or not,' said Gemma's mum. 'And you've never let us down before.

  You've always looked after our kids.

  So we've got to stick together, like Sadie said.'

  'That's right. And it's OK. I'll look after the babies,' I said. I was feeling bad about leaving Mum to cope on her own and I was desperate to make up for it.

  'It's sweet of you to offer, Sadie, but you're only a kid yourself, love,' said Gemma's mum.

  I got a bit annoyed at that. I'm not a kid, I'm nearly nine for goodness sake, and Mum says I'm old for my age. I look after Sara enough times. If you can cope with our Sara then other babies are a doddle. Gemma's quite a sensible little kid at times, and Vincent's OK if you keep an eye on him – well, two eyes plus one in the back of your head – and baby Clive doesn't yell all the time.

  But Gemma's mum and Vincent's

  33

  mum and Clive's mum and even ray mum wouldn't listen to me. They said I couldn't cope.

  'We're the ones who are going to have to cope,' said Gemma's mum.

  'But how?' said Vincent's mum. 'I can't leave Vincent with a neighbour because they go out to work too.'

  'My mother-in-law always said

  she'd look after any babies if I had to go back to work, but the first time she looked after Clive he cried all the time and she said Never Again,'

  said Clive's mum. 'She just couldn't manage.'

  'We're going to have to manage,'

  34

  said Gemma's mum. 'It's only for this week. Can't anyone take three days off work? I would, but I've used up all my leave.'

  Vincent's mum and Clive's mum

  couldn't take time off either.

  T h e n just this once we'll have to take the kids to work with us,' said Gemma's mum.

  'How on earth could I have the

  babies in my office?' said Vincent's mum.

  'You can't have kids cooped up

  behind the chocolate counter all day,'

  said Clive's mum.

  'I'll look after them as usual,' my mum croaked. 'I can go to bed when they have their naps and —'

  'Nonsense,' said Gemma's mum.

  'Now listen. Tomorrow I'll have the kids. They can come to the police station with me. Then Thursday they can go uptown to your office and Friday go to the shop. I know it's going to be difficult but we'll just have to give it a whirl,'

  I still feel like I'm whirling. And it's great great great!

  I got up ever so early and gave Sara a baby bottle to keep her quiet while I got washed and dressed, and then I made Mum a cup of tea and some toast for her breakfast. Then I heated up some tomato soup at the same time and poured it into a

  vacuum flask.

  'That's your lunch, Mum,' I

  explained, when I'd woken her and propped a couple of pillows behind her. 'And look, I've brought some 36

  apples and biscuits up, and the kettle and the coffee and Sara's Ribena because I think you need the vitamin C more than she does.'

  'You're a real pal, Sadie,' Mum mumbled. 'So where are you going today then? Round to Rachel's?'

  'You must be joking! I'll have to go to the police station with Gemma's mum. She'll never cope with the babies on her own.'

  You can say that again.

  She looked a bit fussed when she came to pick us up.

  37

  'Me and my big mouth,' she said. 'I haven't a clue what my boss is going to say. I don't think there's anything in Police Orders about not bringing your children and all t h e i r little friends to work with you, but I kind of get the feeling it's going to be frowned on.'

  Gemma's mum's Police Inspector

  boss did frown when he saw all of us.

  His eyebrows practically k n i t t e d together.

  'What on earth are you playing at, WPC Parsons?' he said.

  'Oh, Sir,' said Gemma's mum, and s h e s t a r t e d g a b b l i n g t h i s long, involved, apologetic e x p l a n a t i o n , 38

  while Gemma scuffed her shoes and Vincent picked his nose and Sara struggled in my arms and Clive cried in his carrycot.

  'This is ridiculous,' said the Inspector. 'You're a policewoman, not Mary Blooming Poppins. I can't have my police station turned into a nursery, not even for one day. You must take them all home with you right this minute.'

  Sara had stopped struggling. She was staring up at the Inspector. Then she gave him a big sunny smile.

  'Dad-Dad!' she announced delight-edly.

  The Inspector looked shocked.

  'I'm not your Dad-Dad,' he said.

  'Dad-Dad!' Sara insisted, and held out her chubby arms to him.

  It's not her fault. We don't often see our dad. Sara's only little and she makes mistakes.

  T h e Inspector w a s big a n d he looked as if he'd never made a mistake in his life – but he made one 39

  right that minute. His arms reached out of their own accord. Sara snug-gled up to him happily.

  'Dad-Dad,' she announced smugly, patting his cheek.

  He still tried to frown, but he couldn't stop his mouth going all smiley.

  'Is t h i s y o u r little girl, WPC

  Parsons?' he asked.

  'No, Sir. This one's mine. Gemma.

  Say hello to the Inspector, Gemma,'

  said Gemma's mum.

  Gemma wasn't going to let Sara

  get all the attention. She smiled determinedly at the Inspector, tos-sing her curls.

  'Hello, Mr Inspector Man. I've

  come to work with Mummy.'

  'Well. J u s t for today,' said the Inspector, picking her up too.

  Gemma's mum winked at me. It

  looked like it was going to be OK

  after all.

  'How would you like a ride in my police car, eh?' said the Inspector.

  40

  'Me too, me too, me too!' said

  Vincent, tugging at the Inspector's trouser leg.

  Clive let out a long, loud wail from his carrycot.

  'He's practising being a police siren,' I said.

  41

  The Inspector looked at me.

  'You're not one of the babies,' he said.

  'I should think not,' I said indignantly. 'I'm here to keep them all in order.'

  'I'm glad to hear it. It looks as if it's going to be some undertaking,' said the Inspector. 'We'd better give you a bit
of authority.'

  He found me a policewoman's hat and a special tie and a big badge.

  'There we go. Now you're head of my Child Protection Team. What's your name?'

  'Sadie. Sir,' I added, and I gave him a little salute.

  'I'm glad you've reported for duty, WPC Sadie,' he said. 'Right, I'll give you your orders. Quieten the baby.

  Wipe the little boy's nose – my trousers are getting rather damp. And take these two little treasures from me so I can give you a proper salute back.'

  42

  G e m m a j u m p e d down h a p p i l y enough but Sara screamed when I tried to take her.

  'Dad-Dad!' she insisted furiously –

  and t h a t poor nice-after-all Inspector had to carry her around all day long.

  We had a wonderful time. The

  Inspector really did take us out in a big police car. He wouldn't go very fast but he did put the siren on 43

  just for a second. That was another mistake. Vincent made very loud police-siren noises all day after that, and Clive did his best to accompany him.

  We had Coke and crisps back in the police canteen and then, when Gemma's mum had to do some work, the Inspector took us to see a great big police dog. Gemma didn't like him and Vincent was a bit worried, but Sara laughed and patted him.

  'Yes, nice doggy,' said the Inspector.

  'Nice Dad-Dad,' said Sara.

  44

  She's dead artful, my little baby sister. Like I said, she insisted on s t a y i n g with t h e Inspector, even when he had to parade some policemen and inspect some prisoners in the cells. Sara smiled all the time and the policemen and even t h e prisoners smiled back.

  Gemma and Vincent were both

  getting a bit restless – and baby Clive was very restless indeed. I was tempted to leave him in one of the prisoners' cells, but one of the canteen ladies plucked him up in her arms and started cooing at him. She gave him a little lick of her special syrup pudding and it sweetened him up considerably.

  45

  I left Clive with the canteen lady and played prisoners with Gemma and Vincent, and a friendly policeman showed me how to take their fingerprints with wonderful gungy black ink. V i n c e n t p a r t i c u l a r l y enjoyed the procedure. He didn't just put his fingerprints on the pad. He put them on his knees and his nose and the desk and even up the wall.

  The friendly policeman had to carry him off to be scrubbed. I paraded Gemma up and down the corridors a n d into t h e control-room a n d 46

  another friendly policeman showed us how to work his computer so t h a t lots of squiggly green information flashed up on the screen. Gemma thought it was better t h a n television and sat on his lap and had a go at pressing all the buttons herself.

  I left Gemma with t h a t friendly policeman and went to see what my fellow policewoman was up to. Gemma's mum was in the front office seeing to members of the public. She let me stand up on a box and see to them too. We took particulars of a stolen purse and Gemma's m u m 47

  showed me how to fill in a crime sheet. She said I did it very neatly. I think it's all the practice writing in this diary. I've been writing and writing and writing today since we got back home.

  Mum's in bed. Sara's in bed too.

  She was still saying Dad-Dad as she drifted off to sleep. That Inspector says h e ' s n o t h e r D a d - D a d b u t perhaps he could be a sort of uncle and come and visit her some time.

  48

  He's not a bit frowny and fierce when you get to know him. I think I'll maybe go and work full-time for him when I'm grown up.

  49

  Us girls didn't really stick together today. But it didn't matter. We still had a lot of fun. And Mum had

  another day in bed. She said if only she didn't feel ill it would be Absolute Bliss.

  Vincent's mum looked as if she was undergoing Abject Torture. She came to collect us all with Vincent's dad.

  He was tall and twinkly and as soon as she spotted him Sara tried her Dad-Dad trick. It didn't work this time.

  50

  'My dad,' said Vincent fiercely, and when Sara tried to crawl up Vincent's dad's smartly suited trouser leg, Vincent gave her a shove so that she sat down with a thump. I don't think it hurt because her bottom's well padded with nappy, but she yelled a lot.

  Vincent's dad just tutted, but

  Vincent's mum was horrified and told Vincent that he was a very naughty, unkind little boy and he mustn't push little girls over.

  Vincent screwed up his face and looked as if he'd like to push his big mummy over. We all went to the

  railway station to catch the train to London. Vincent's mum and Vincent's dad and Vincent and Gemma and

  Clive and Sara and me. We had the double buggy and we'd started off with Vincent and Clive strapped in, Gemma holding Vincent's mum's

  hand, and me carrying Sara. Vincent's dad didn't seem too keen to hold or carry anyone so he just pushed the buggy.

  51

  Sara was very annoyed about this.

  It's our buggy and she decided she ought to be sitting in it. Vincent started struggling to get out of the buggy once we got on the platform, so Vincent's mum plucked him out and

  popped Sara in his place. This wasn't as sensible as it seemed. Vincent shot off like a rocket up the platform to look for trains. Vincent's dad fielded him niftily but then handed him over firmly to Vincent's mum. She tried taking Clive out of the buggy this time and strapped Vincent back in beside Sara. Vincent yelled furiously and kicked out, trying to escape. He kicked Sara by accident and she screamed. Baby Clive cried too, just to be companionable.

  Vincent's dad moved a few paces away and got out his newspaper.

  'Aren't the babies being naughty,'

  said Gemma, squeezing Vincent's mum's hand.

  Vincent's mum looked as if she

  were about to cry too.

  'I can't have them creating this sort of chaos in my office,' she said anxiously.

  'Don't worry. They were ever so good at the police station yesterday,'

  I said, trying to reassure her.

  53

  'Well, I don't know what on earth you were all up to, but my Vincent came home absolutely filthy. He left t h e most terrible fingermarks all over my cream upholstery. Vincent!

  Vincent, will you stop t h a t silly screaming. And you, Sara. Is she always like this, Sadie? And why is the baby screeching his head off?' She held Clive as if he was a ticking bomb.

  'Can't you stop him making such a noise?' Vincent's dad muttered from behind his newspaper.

  'Honestly, what do you expect me to do?' said Vincent's mum crossly.

  'Babies don't have volume control, you know.'

  'He likes it if you jiggle him about a bit,' I said helpfully.

  V i n c e n t ' s m u m jiggled Clive.

  Perhaps she jiggled him a jot too much. He was sick all down his front.

  He was sick down quite a lot of Vincent's mum's front too.

  54

  'Oh no,' said Vincent's mum, dabbing at the damp bits with a tissue.

  'Pooh, he smells now,' said Gemma.

  Clive revved up his crying,

  obviously insulted. Vincent and Sara were feeling ignored and so they yelled louder. Then the train rushed into the station and Gemma got

  startled and she started crying too.

  All the other people on the platform scrambled to get into other carriages.

  Nobody seemed to want to sit with us. Vincent's dad looked as if he might get into another carriage too, but he manoeuvred the buggy on to the train while Vincent's mum and I hauled in all the babies. They all shut up when the train started, except Gemma. She decided she was 55

  very seriously scared of trains. She had to sit on Vincent's mum's lap.

  Vincent's mum's skirt got very

  seriously creased.

  'I must be mad,' she muttered dis-tractedly. 'Why did I ever say I'd do this?'

  'Because us girls have got to stick together,' I
said brightly.

  'That's all very well. But how can I be taken seriously as a professional working woman when I've got five frightful kids fighting in my office?'

  Vincent's mum wailed.

  'Four kids,' I said indignantly. 'I'm here to help you.'

  'Quite right, Sadie,' said Vincent's dad, twinkling at me over the top of his newspaper.

  'You can shut up for a start,' said Vincent's mum.

  'Now now. Temper temper. I don't know why you're getting in such a state. You've only got to look after the children for one measly little day,' said Vincent's dad. 'I'm sure you 56

  can fit them into a corner of your office, give them some paper to crayon on, let them make necklaces out of paperclips— When you think about it, the average office is a wonderful playland for kids. You've just got to use your initiative.'

  Vincent's mum squared her shoulders inside her smart suit.

  'Well, I'm going to use my initiative right now,' she said, as the train drew into the station. 'If you think it's such a doddle then you look after the children.'

  57

  She opened the carriage door and was off down the platform, her high heels twinkling. We all peered after her, our mouths open. Vincent's dad's jaw was positively sagging.

  ' M u m m y g o n e , ' V i n c e n t announced, in case we hadn't quite grasped the situation.

  'Oh dear,' said Gemma. 'I liked t h a t lady.'

  'I don't like her at all,' said Vincent's dad. 'I can't believe this. How can she do this to me?'

  'Maybe she'll be back in a minute,'

  I said helpfully. 'Maybe she's just giving you a little fright.'

  She was succeeding too. Vincent's dad had gone pale and lost all his twinkle.

  'What am I going to do?' he mur-mured wretchedly after I'd unloaded everyone and the buggy on to the platform and we'd stood around waiting for five or ten minutes. It was getting obvious t h a t Vincent's mum really had scarpered.