‘Do you want to hold her?’ asks Alex and before I know what’s happening I’m sitting in a low chair and Mum has placed the bundle of blankets in my arms and the Bad-News-Baby is staring up at me. Her face is red and wrinkly and her eyes are scrunched up tight like she doesn’t want to look at me. She feels heavy in my arms and I want to give her straight back to Mum and get out of here. A camera flashes and I look up in time to see Charlie taking a photograph, a goofy-looking smile on his tired face.
‘You can have her back now if you like,’ I offer to Mum. ‘My arms are aching – she weighs a ton.’
For some reason this makes Alex and Charlie and Mum laugh really loudly. Their noise startles Bad-News and she opens her eyes. They are the bluest eyes I have ever seen in my life, like staring into a deep pot of indigo paint. With her eyes open, she doesn’t look quite so weird and I find myself gently stroking my finger against her cheek. It’s so soft that I’m not sure I’m actually touching her at all.
‘Stop laughing,’ I tell them all. ‘You’re scaring her.’ This makes Charlie laugh even louder, but Mum and Alex calm down a bit, and Mum comes and perches on the arm of the chair next to me.
‘She’s not scared, Izzy,’ she says. ‘She’s interested. She wants to meet us all. Look how she’s staring at you!’
‘I think she likes you, Izzy,’ says Alex and for a moment everything feels warm and good and hopeful. And then the baby starts crying – a loud, piercing, shocking sound that comes out of nowhere. I panic and thrust her at Mum before standing up and moving to the other side of the room.
‘I didn’t do anything!’ I splutter, wondering what has caused so much screaming. Mum passes the baby back to Alex and she stops crying straight away, snuggling up tight inside the blankets.
‘It’s fine, don’t panic,’ says Mum, coming to stand next to me. ‘She’s just making herself heard, letting us know that she needs something, like a clean nappy or a feed or an extra blanket. Right now she just needs her mum – who is doing an excellent job!’ She directs this last bit across the room to Alex, who looks up for a second and beams at Mum before going back to gazing at the baby.
‘Don’t worry, Izzy, you didn’t do anything wrong. Babies cry and they do it a lot!’
Oh, they do, do they? Well, I’m not convinced that this is going to work then because that noise was nothing like the quiet little squeaking that you’d have thought something that small would make.
Alex has put the baby into a tiny cot next to her bed and now they’re all standing round, admiring every bit of her. There’s nothing about her that is too small to comment on.
‘Look at her darling little nose!’ says Mum.
All the better to SMELL you with, my dear, I think to myself.
‘And have you seen how huge her eyes are?’ adds Charlie, sounding as proud as if he’d made them himself.
All the better to SEE you with, my dear.
‘It’s her gorgeous little rosebud lips that I love!’ says Alex in a voice I’ve not heard before – all drippy and soft and gooey and pastel-coloured.
All the better to GOBBLE YOU UP, my dear. And that’s exactly what is going to happen. She might be tiny and brand-new, but she doesn’t fool me. She’s got them all exactly where she wants them. I’m over here by the door, all on my own, while everybody looks at her like she’s some kind of miracle. They’re under her spell: she’ll be able to get absolutely anything she wants and they’re powerless to resist her.
‘Can’t you all see?’ I want to shout. ‘Look at yourselves! There’s more going on than just this baby, you know. I got an A for my history assignment on Victorian England – that took a lot of work – but none of you are interested in that, are you?’
But I don’t say a word. I stand by the door and pretend to be fascinated by a poster on how to wash your hands properly. Not that anybody notices – they’re too busy watching the baby fall asleep. Once she makes a snuffling noise and they all nearly fall over each other in delight. I leave the cubicle in disgust and stand outside the curtain, trying not to listen to the ridiculous conversations that are going on around me about fingernails (yes – I have ten, but is anybody impressed?) and the contents of nappies (utterly gross and not something that should ever be discussed in public) and the amazing smell of a baby’s head (excuse me? I wash my hair twice a week with shampoo that smells of coconut, but nobody’s trying to take deep sniffs of my head – good job too).
Eventually a bell rings and visitors throughout the ward begin to gather up their bags and get ready to leave. I step back into the cubicle just as Mum starts to stand up.
‘Where’s Izzy?’ she’s saying, but not in a particularly worried or concerned way. ‘Oh, you’re there! Come and say goodbye to your niece before we go.’ She leans over the cot and kisses the baby before moving round to the other side of the bed and talking quietly to Alex, showing her the cuddly monkey and the cardigan that we bought in town this morning. Charlie is raiding the box of chocolates that Mum had put on the table for Alex, so when I walk up to the cot there’s nobody paying the slightest bit of attention to me.
She’s awake again and as I bend over she fixes me with her big eyes. I put my face right down next to her – anybody looking would think I was giving her a kiss. I usually try hard to be a nice person, but the feelings I’m having won’t stay inside and there’s nobody that I can tell, except the baby.
‘Let’s get one thing straight,’ I murmur, so quietly that my lips are barely moving. ‘I know what you’re up to. And you may well be prettier and cuter and more interesting than me, but I know the truth about you.’
I move back slightly and see that she’s looking at me like I’m the most fascinating thing in the world. I waver for a second – she actually is pretty cute – but then I remember how obsessed everyone is with her and how there’s no room for me. How she’s changed everything and I didn’t have a choice. One of us needs to stay level-headed and see her for what she is: an imposter who will stop at nothing until she has the love and attention and adoration of the whole family. She won’t let Alex go back to the Alex she was before.
‘You’re bad news, baby,’ I tell her. ‘I’m keeping my eye on you.’
Then Alex calls me over to her for a hug and it’s time for us to go.
Mum tells me on the way home that they’ll probably be allowed to come home in a few days, once the baby has put on a bit of weight and is feeding regularly.
‘We’ll be a proper family again,’ she says, her smile wide as she turns into our road.
I say nothing, which doesn’t matter because she’s full of her own thoughts about the baby, and about the house being full of chatter and laughter and noise and people. And all I can think is that nobody ever told me that we had stopped being a proper family.
Seeing Red
So this is how it is. The Bad-News-Baby wakes up every two hours all through the night because she needs a feed. Unfortunately, because she’s incapable of keeping her hunger to herself and suffering in silence, she makes her needs known by screaming. Very, very loudly. Then, when my alarm clock goes off and it’s time for me to get up for school, the Bad-News-Baby suddenly decides that she needs to sleep and I have to creep around the house, making sure that I don’t slam any doors or even have a shower in case she wakes up. And there’s no way I can play my violin: the Bad-News-Baby seems to sense when I even just open the case and starts screeching hysterically.
The house has been really busy with visitors, all desperate to catch a glimpse of Bad-News. Granny and Grandpa arrived the day after Alex came home from hospital and Grandpa just sat in the armchair, holding the baby in his arms as gently as if she was made of glass, and murmuring ‘Alex, lovely Alex’ over and over again. He had absolutely no idea that the baby was his great-grandchild and not actually Alex. Granny and Mum watched him and cried a bit, and Alex had a snooze on the sofa, and I just sat there wondering if this was how life was going to be from now on.
Finn has vi
rtually moved in: he comes over every day after work and only goes home to sleep. The rest of the time he’s here, changing nappies and cuddling the baby. He’s no fun at all any more. Charlie pops in every day and all he does is stare at Bad-News as if she’s done something wonderful like achieved world peace or found a cure for the common cold. It’s very, very boring in our house.
Right now there’s a rare moment of quiet. The baby is asleep in her basket in the living room and Alex is asleep on the sofa next to her. All she ever does is sleep; I haven’t managed to have a proper conversation with her once since the baby arrived. Mum’s at the shops and there’s nobody else around. I’m not really sure what to do with myself. Whatever it is it’d better be silent because I don’t want to be responsible for waking up Bad-News. I’ve done that once and Alex was so unbelievably furious with me that I’d rather spend the day tiptoeing around than risk her getting so angry again.
I’m trying to decide between writing a new poem about imposter babies who steal all the attention and writing my Christmas present list when there’s a loud banging on the front door. I wince, hold my breath and cross my fingers at the same time, but it does no good: there’s a high-pitched screeching noise from the living room followed by the sound of Alex groaning.
‘Who on earth is making that racket?’ Alex calls towards the stairs, where I’m standing, working out if I can escape to my room.
‘I have no idea,’ I call back, ‘on account of the fact that I do not possess psychic powers.’ I whisper the last bit because Alex is always seriously grumpy when she’s just woken up.
Whoever it is, they’re very determined to get our attention. I can see their outline through the glass door and a hand, bashing the doorknocker up and down.
‘Well, answer it!’ yells Alex. ‘I’ve got to deal with the baby!’
I walk slowly down the stairs. I am so sick of being Alex’s slave. I wonder if I’ll ever have a younger person of my own to boss about. Maybe the baby could be MY slave – that’d be kind of fair, if you think about it. I open the front door, but before I can register who’s standing there they have barged past me and into the hall.
‘Hello, hello! Bet you can’t believe I’m here!’ she shouts. Oh. It’s Sara. My heart sinks; she seems completely out of place in our house. Her hair has changed colour since I last saw her – she’s got all these blonde streaks running through it – and her clothes look different too. She looks edgy and funky and confident – and she seems too big for our front hall, even though she’s actually quite small.
‘So where is she then?’ she screeches at me. ‘Lead me to her!’ I nod in the direction of the living room and Sara strides towards the door, me trailing behind her with a bad feeling.
‘Babe!’ she cries, racing up to Alex and stopping a few steps in front of her. ‘Look at you! You look super exhausted. You poor thing. At least you’re not so fat any more – although you’ve got a bit more weight to lose, hey, hon?’ She laughs. ‘Remind me to give you the name of this brilliant workout class in town. I bumped into Nadia a few weeks ago – you remember, Nadia from school? Anyway, she’s totally gorgeous now and she’s lost loads of weight and she said she’d started working out. It’d be great for you, babe – just what you need to lose that last bit of chub!’
Sara plonks herself down on the sofa and exhales loudly. Alex looks like someone’s just slapped her in the face, which I suppose they sort of have. She looks at Sara and I can tell that she’s having a whole speedy conversation with herself in her head, but after a moment of hesitating she sits down next to Sara and smiles at her.
‘Thanks for coming over,’ Alex says.
‘Oh, no worries, babe! I was home anyway for Lee’s party tonight. It’s going to be insane! I know I could have just caught up with you there, but I was at a bit of a loose end so I thought I’d pop in for a chat. So tell me everything! How’s it going with you and Charlie?’
I quietly sit down on a beanbag near Bad-News’s basket. I’m half expecting Alex to tell me to get lost, but neither of them seems to even notice I’m here. I don’t actually know why I haven’t gone up to my room; I’ve just got a feeling that Alex might need me. And I’m a bit nosy.
Alex looks down at her hands, as if she’s wondering how much to tell Sara.
‘Come on!’ says Sara. ‘Tell me all the gossip!’
‘There’s no gossip really,’ says Alex. ‘We’re not together any more, but –’
‘I KNEW it!’ screams Sara. ‘I heard a rumour, but I couldn’t be sure until I’d spoken to you! Is it someone else? Who did he go off with? I knew you wouldn’t keep him long – no offence!’
‘It’s nothing like that,’ says Alex quickly. ‘We just decided it’d be better if we didn’t commit to something that didn’t feel right. We’re still friends. He still comes over to see her.’
Sara reaches across the sofa and pulls Alex into a hug that doesn’t look particularly comfortable.
‘Oh, you poor, poor thing. You must feel so sad and unwanted.’
Alex sits up. ‘Not really –’ she starts, but Sara interrupts her.
‘But look on the bright side, hon!’ she says cheerfully ‘You’re free and single! And Lee’s party tonight is the perfect opportunity to let your hair down and have some fun!’
‘I’m not –’
‘What are you going to wear?’ squawks Sara. ‘You’re going to need some new clothes because you CANNOT go out looking like that! We’re going to have to be clever – figure out a look that hides your tum, but doesn’t make you look like someone’s mum!’
‘I AM someone’s mum,’ says Alex, standing up and looking down at Sara. ‘And I’m not going to Lee’s party tonight.’
I’m not sure what course Sara is doing at university, but it must be quite an easy one because she’s not very bright. Not bright enough to hear the steely tone in Alex’s voice that means she’s not happy. Definitely not bright enough to shut up.
‘Oh, babe!’ she wails, looking up at Alex and opening her eyes very wide. ‘What’s happened to you? The old Alex would never turn down a party!’
‘Did you just ask what’s happened to me?’ says Alex, sounding gobsmacked. ‘I’ve had a baby, Sara. I can’t just leave her to go to a party.’
‘But how are you ever going to meet any boys if you don’t go out?’ asks Sara, sounding genuinely worried.
‘I don’t need to meet any boys, Sara – that’s what I’m trying to tell you!’ Alex has started walking round the living room and I can tell that she’s really upset. I sink further into my beanbag and hope that Sara goes home soon.
‘You’re just scared because you’re out of practice,’ states Sara in a bossy voice. ‘I bet you haven’t spoken to a single boy except Charlie in months! You’ve turned into a hermit, hiding away in here. Well, never fear, I’m here to help you get back out into the world!’
‘I don’t need your help,’ says Alex, but Sara just raises her eyebrows at her. ‘I don’t! And I have spoken to other boys actually. I speak to Finn all the time.’
Sara puts her head in her hands and moans dramatically, and I remember why she and Alex used to be friends. ‘Finn! He doesn’t count as a boy! Seriously, Alex, you need help!’
Sara stands up and grabs Alex’s hand. ‘Come on! Let’s go into town now and I’ll do you a make-over – you won’t recognize yourself when I’m done with you!’ She tries to drag Alex across the room, but Alex stops her.
‘I can’t, Sara! I can’t just leave her.’
Sara turns and looks at me for the first time. I stare back at her, willing her to disappear. I don’t like how she’s talking to Alex.
‘Oh, she’ll be fine on her own,’ she says, waving her hand dismissively in my direction. ‘She must be in Year Eight now surely? Come on! If we go now, we’ll have plenty of time to get ready.’
‘I wasn’t talking about Izzy,’ says Alex and I can hear the frustration in her voice. She looks at me and I grimace back at her in support
. This visit is not going very well. Alex takes a deep breath and tries to smile.
‘Do you want to meet her?’ she asks Sara, moving towards the basket where Bad-News has been lying quietly.
‘Meet who?’ says Sara, sounding sulky and grabbing her bag off the sofa.
‘My baby!’ says Alex. ‘Sara, meet the newest member of the Stone family.’
She gestures towards Bad-News and Sara walks slowly across the room and peers suspiciously into the basket.
‘Oh!’ she says. ‘Look at it!’
‘I know,’ says Alex. ‘Isn’t she the most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen in your whole life?’
‘I guess,’ says Sara, but she doesn’t sound very convinced. I stand up and join them next to the basket. Bad-News is babbling to herself and gazing up at the ceiling, totally transfixed. Sara glances up and then looks at Alex, a strange look on her face.
‘Is it OK?’ she asks.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I MEAN, is it all there?’ Sara hisses this last bit as if she’s talking about something not very nice. Alex looks at her, confused. ‘I don’t mean to be unkind, Alex, but it’s looking at the ceiling and there’s nothing even there. It’s a bit odd, don’t you think?’
Sara looks up again and then stares at the baby. Alex starts laughing. ‘She’s looking at the light reflections on the ceiling!’ she tells Sara. ‘There’s nothing wrong with her.’
Sara scowls. ‘Well, it shouldn’t stare like that. It makes it look strange, like there’s something wrong with it. Its eyes are a bit squinty too – you should probably get them checked. Although you can get glasses for little kids and, I have to say, they do look pretty cute in them.’
Alex moves in between Sara and the basket, blocking Bad-News from Sara’s doubtful gaze. She looks Sara right in the eye and when she speaks her voice is clear and firm. ‘She doesn’t look strange. She looks like a newborn baby, which is exactly what she is. And it’s why I’m not going shopping or partying or anything else right now. I’m staying here with her and keeping her safe.’
Violet Ink Page 19