Violet Ink

by Rebecca Westcott

  ‘SavannahParisMelodyChelsea,’ he says, and then slaps his piece of paper on the table, relieved to have done his bit. There’s silence for a moment while we all work out what he has suggested. I look at Alex; her face is steely and she’s glaring at Charlie.

  ‘We’ve had this conversation before,’ she says, sounding as if her teeth are gritted. ‘I don’t want her to have a trendy name. There’ll be millions of girls with those names in her class when she starts school.’

  Charlie just looks at her, as if he doesn’t really understand what her problem is. Mum is looking concerned and I can tell she’s crossing her fingers under the table that Bad-News doesn’t end up with one of those names. So am I actually. She’d be better off keeping the name I’ve given her – at least she’ll be the only Bad-News in her class.

  ‘I must say, those are quite “cheap” names, dear,’ says Granny.

  ‘Why don’t I tell you my suggestions?’ says Mum in a breezy voice, trying to drown out Granny’s words, and Alex stops frowning at Charlie and turns to Mum.

  ‘Please do,’ she says. Mum looks down at her list, and it might just be my imagination, but her face seems a bit white and her hands seem to be shaking just a little.

  ‘I think you can’t go wrong with classic names,’ she tells Alex, who scowls suspiciously. ‘Some names never go out of fashion, so I thought Rose, Charlotte or Sophie.’

  ‘Oh, lovely!’ cries Granny. ‘Your great-great-grandmother was called Rose. How perfect to choose a family name!’

  Mum shoots a warning look at Granny and then looks anxiously at Alex, who is pulling her ‘thinking’ face and looking at Bad-News who has started making little snoring sounds.

  ‘They’re good names, Mum. I just don’t think they’re right for her. Do you know what I mean?’

  Mum nods, but as soon as Alex turn away I see Mum’s face fall and I can almost hear her brain screaming, ‘No! I do NOT know what you mean! JUST PICK A NAME FOR YOUR BABY!’ Granny grins again. I’m getting the distinct impression that this is the most fun she’s had in ages.

  Finn’s up next, which is a good job because he can barely sit still in his chair, he’s so excited about his choice of names – although he keeps shooting nervous looks across the table at Charlie, who just looks straight back at him. Alex nods at Finn and he clears his throat.

  ‘So I thought about what you want her name to mean,’ he tells Alex and she smiles, starting to look interested. ‘You want her to be brave and unique and independent, right?’ Alex is nodding and trying to crane her neck round so that she can read Finn’s list, but he’s holding it close to his body, ready for the big reveal. ‘I thought about the women I know who represent all of these things and the answer was obvious.’

  ‘It was?’ breathes Alex and we all lean in closer in anticipation.

  ‘Female rock singers!’ says Finn and slams his piece of paper on to the table.

  I get up and stand behind Alex so that I can read the list over her shoulder. It’s impressive – he’s managed seven names.

  Pearl Daisy

  Emmylou Avril

  Courtney Siouxsie

  Stevie

  Mum has read the list and is muttering to herself just under her breath. Granny is finally quiet. Finn’s suggestions have stunned her into silence. Alex looks at Finn in disbelief.

  ‘How do you say that one?’ asks Charlie, pointing to the last name.

  ‘Suzie,’ Finn tells him.

  ‘So why is it spelt like that?’ Charlie looks puzzled and I feel a bit sorry for him. I think he just wants this to be over and the baby to finally have a proper name.

  ‘It’s like “Sioux” – the Native American tribe. They pronounce it “Sue”. Siouxsie Sioux is a rock singer.’

  Charlie still looks confused and Finn turns to Alex.

  ‘You don’t like my names, do you?’ he asks her.

  ‘It’s not that I don’t LIKE them,’ says Alex. ‘Although seriously – are you genuinely suggesting that my daughter looks like an Emmylou? It’s just that –’

  ‘I know, I know,’ says Finn, sounding exasperated. ‘None of them look like her. I get it.’

  ‘What now?’ asks Mum. ‘We’re still no closer to choosing and she really needs to have a name!’ Her voice goes higher towards the end of her sentence and I wonder if it’s time to share my idea.

  Alex is looking totally miserable, Charlie looks like he’s about to do a runner, while Finn and Mum look completely and utterly fed up. Even Granny is starting to look a bit concerned. Only Grandpa seems happy, singing under his breath to Bad-News.

  ‘I’ve got a name for her,’ I tell them and they all look at me in surprise. I try to ignore the slight feeling of hurt this causes; honestly, they all seem to think I’m more like Bad-News than like them. It’s about time they realized there’s only one baby around here – and she needs a name she can be proud of.

  ‘Let’s hear it,’ says Alex, and Mum nods at me encouragingly. I feel suddenly nervous. I spent hours on this last night and if Alex is rude about it then I don’t want to embarrass myself by crying. I hesitate for a second – maybe I won’t show them – but then I look at Bad-News lying in Grandpa’s arms. She’s awake again and is looking at me with her beautiful eyes that are turning more and more purple every day, although I think I’m the only one who has noticed.

  As I look at her, she smiles. Her very first smile and it’s at me. I heard Mum and Alex talking about when she’d do this and Mum said it wouldn’t be for a while yet, but I just saw her smile, absolutely definitely for certain, and it was a smile meant just for me. And I know in this instant that I have to be the one to name her, that she’ll love my choice of name far more than any of those other suggestions. Because she is not a Charlotte or a Savannah. She is most definitely not an Emmylou. I know her and I know who she is.

  Walking across to the fridge, I take down the large piece of paper that I hid there earlier and put it on the kitchen table. Then I stand back and watch.

  Five people crane over the table and for a moment all I can see are the tops of their heads. Then Finn looks up at me and gives me a nod, followed by Charlie who smiles. Mum and Granny are next, looking teary-eyed, and then Alex has leapt out of her seat and is hugging me and laughing.

  ‘It’s perfect, Izzy – totally perfect!’ she says, spinning me round the kitchen and bringing me to a stop in front of my artwork. I painted the name in the right colour and then drew pictures round the outside. Delicate, small flowers in one corner. Alex’s fountain pen in another.

  And there, in the middle, the name that I think will suit Bad-News more than any other name on the earth. Violet.

  ‘It’s beautiful, Izzy,’ says Mum, wiping a tear off her cheek.

  ‘Just perfect,’ agrees Granny.

  ‘It means all of the things that you wanted her name to mean,’ I tell Alex. ‘But you knew that already because it’s your colour. You just listed all the colour meanings of violet.’

  Alex’s eyes are shining and she looks at Charlie.

  ‘What do you think?’ she asks and for the first time in ages it sounds like she’s desperate for him to agree with her. ‘Can we call her Violet?’

  ‘I think it’s a brilliant name,’ says Charlie, getting up and taking Bad-News from Grandpa. ‘It really suits her.’

  Alex whoops and spins me round again. Then she stops and plonks herself down next to Finn, who is still looking at my piece of paper.

  ‘Finn?’ she says. ‘What do you reckon?’

  Finn looks at Alex and then across at Bad-News. ‘I reckon you’ve got a very clever little sister,’ he says and I feel myself flushing with pride. ‘Violet is definitely a name that will take her a long way. Maybe even rock-star status!’

  ‘My gorgeous baby girl is not going to be a rock star, Finn!’ shrieks Alex, punching him in the shoulder. ‘Don’t you ever dare suggest such a thing – not where she can hear you. She’s going to stay at home with her mummy forever and ev
er and never leave me and never cause me any trouble. Got it?’

  I look across at Mum who is smiling at Alex.

  ‘I seem to remember saying a similar thing when you were a cute little baby,’ she tells her, but her voice is teasing, and when Alex goes across the room and scoops Mum into a big hug I see Mum close her eyes and rest her head on Alex’s shoulder, a happy, contented smile on her face.

  ‘And I said exactly the same thing about you,’ Granny says to Mum. Mum looks up and makes eye contact with Granny over Alex’s shoulder. ‘And I wouldn’t want to change a single thing that’s happened,’ Granny continues, smiling gently at Mum. ‘Life has a funny way of doing just what it wants – and if things had been done differently we might not all be here together right now.’

  We’re all quiet for a moment, each thinking about what Granny has said. I look at the four generations in our kitchen and wonder if Violet will ever love the rest of us the way that we all love her.

  ‘Is it time for her to go to bed?’ says Charlie, and I freeze, thinking for a minute that he’s talking about me, and that once again I’m going to be packed off like a baby. But then I realize that he’s actually talking about the real baby and I laugh at myself for being so quick to leap to conclusions.

  ‘Can I put her to bed?’ I ask, and Charlie looks at me, uncertain. Mum comes forward and touches my arm.

  ‘That’s a lovely thought, sweetheart, but you’ve not done it before. Why not let Alex do it tonight and she can show you how it’s done tomorrow?’ I nod and start to step back, but Alex stops me.

  ‘No, I’d love it if Izzy put her to bed. I think it’s a great idea and she was the one to choose the perfect name after all.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ I ask her. ‘I know how to change her nappy and I’ll put a clean sleepsuit on her. I’ll be really careful.’

  Alex laughs. ‘I know you will. You’re the best Aunty Izzy in the universe. She’s a very lucky baby to have someone like you. Her very own darkness-destroyer!’

  Charlie kisses the baby’s head and puts her in my arms and slowly, very carefully, I walk round the kitchen, stopping so that Mum, Granny, Grandpa and then Alex can give her a kiss. When I walk past Finn, he ruffles the fluffy hair on her head and I see him look over at Charlie. A look fizzes between them and I can’t work out what it means, but then Charlie nods at Finn and Finn smiles and looks relieved. Then, with all of them watching me, I walk upstairs and into Alex’s room.

  The lamp is on and the whole room has a cosy glow. It feels safe – like a good place for a baby to sleep. I put her on the bed and ease her plump little arms and legs out of her clothes. She lies on the changing mat, her legs kicking in the air and gazing at the room around her, as if it’s the best, most wonderful place she’s ever seen.

  I laugh, watching her tire herself out with her kicking, and then I change her nappy and slide a fresh sleepsuit under her body, pulling the sleeves over her arms. It takes a while to get her feet into the legs of the suit because she keeps kicking them out, but I get there eventually and do up the poppers at the front. Then I pick her up and hold her close to me while I look round the room. It’s really hard to remember what this room was like before and I truly can’t imagine a home without her in it.

  She’s almost asleep so I tiptoe across to her cot and lie her down. There’s a worrying moment when I think she’s going to start crying, but then she finds her fingers and starts sucking, and within seconds she’s completely gone. Fast asleep.

  I watch her for a few more minutes, just to be sure, and then I creep out of the room and into my own bedroom. From downstairs I can hear the sound of Alex and Finn singing a song that they used to play in their band and I wonder if Alex might go back and rejoin On the Rocks. I could help Mum with the babysitting. I can hear Mum and Charlie walking Granny and Grandpa to the front door and Mum telling Granny to ring if she needs her, and Charlie laughing with Grandpa as he helps them down the front path, and it feels good to be part of such a funny, messy family.

  In my room I kneel down and pull out the wooden box where Alex kept the letters she wrote to me. She left it inside the laundry basket when she ran away and I rescued it, but I wasn’t sure why. I put it on my bed and find the new notebook and the pen with the indigo ink that I bought yesterday with my pocket money. But there’s still one thing left to do, so before I can start writing I take Mr Cuddles off my pillow, where he’s sitting next to my poison arrow frog that I got the day that Bad-News was born. Then I go back into Alex’s room.

  Bad-News is dreaming – I can see her eyelids flickering and I hope it’s a dream about something good. I put Mr Cuddles at the bottom of her cot. I don’t want to scare her if she wakes up and sees one freaky eye staring at her. Then I lean over the cot and whisper to her.

  ‘I was wrong. You’re not bad news at all. In fact, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me – probably to our whole family. Mr Cuddles belongs to you now. Take care of him, and welcome to the world, Violet.’

  I look down at my mood ring. It’s yellow and I remember nearly a whole year ago when I decided that this year would be the Year of Yellow. Yellow for happiness and joy, hope and friendship. Yellow for being me – for mattering and being important to somebody else.

  ‘We got there, Violet,’ I tell her. ‘We made it yellow.’

  Then I walk back to my room and sit on my bed and start writing down the story of you. So that one day, Violet, even if you think that life’s unfair and nobody likes you and you always get everything wrong, you will know how totally and completely and utterly loved you are. You will know that I trust only you with my words and my thoughts. And you will know that I will always be here to keep you safe and scare away the dark and love you. Forever.

  Love Izzy xxxx

  Acknowledgements

  When I was in my late teens, my granny gave me a packet of letters that she had been keeping for me to read when I was old enough. Those letters are some of my most treasured possessions. Thank you, Mum, Granny and Granpa, for sharing your stories and memories and love with me.

  Many thanks to Lizzy and Polly for once again reading an early draft and giving me lots of brilliant advice. And to Julie B, Flor, Julie N, Kate and Niki who gave their time to read this book and share their thoughts with me.

  I also need to thank Holly, Erin and Eliza, three fantastic readers whose opinions were well considered, thoughtful, honest and incredibly valuable.

  Thank you to Julia and Alex, for your support.

  And thanks to my amazing family – Adam, Zachary, Georgia and Reuben – for your constant excitement and enthusiasm.

  READ ON FOR

  INSIDE INFORMATION AND ACTIVITIES FROM

  REBECCA WESTCOTT

  Writing Activity

  Alex is a letter writer. She says nobody writes letters any more but that they should because letters are special. She says you can hold a letter and keep it close to you and read it any time you want. Emails can be wiped and texts are gone if you lose your phone – but letters stay forever.

  I totally agree with Alex. When I was a child, I used to love the sound of the postman pushing the post through our front door. I lived in eternal hope that there might be a letter for me, and sometimes there actually was. My nana and my granny used to write to me and later, when I was at university, my mum and my little sister wrote to me all the time. I’ve kept all those letters and they are really special to me.

  We don’t send as many letters today – I suppose it’s just easier (and cheaper) to email or send a text. I still think letter writing is fun, though, and it’s a good way to practise your writing skills and make someone’s day a bit nicer!

  Try these letter-writing ideas – and if you haven’t got a stamp just leave them on the pillow of someone who lives in your house. It’ll give them a brilliant surprise and, if you’re lucky, they might write back …

  Write a letter to someone who is important to you. Tell them why they mean so much to you and why you�
��re glad that you know them.

  Write a funny letter describing the most embarrassing day of your life. You’ll make someone laugh and, you never know, it might be therapeutic for you to put down your excruciating experiences on paper. (I know what I’m talking about here. Let’s just say that the basketball scene and Izzy’s subsequent total humiliation was based on a VERY personal experience. Except I wasn’t twelve – I was sixteen …)

  Write a letter to yourself in the future. Include details of everything that matters to you now: the TV programmes you watch, the music you listen to, the books you’re reading, the people you like (and don’t like). Then describe what you’d like to be doing in ten years’ time – your hopes and predictions for yourself. After that, seal it up in an envelope, put your name and the year in which it can be opened on the front and put it somewhere safe. You’ll be really glad you did this when you stumble upon it in the 2020s!

  Reading-group Questions

  Do you think the title Violet Ink works for this story? Would you have given the book a different title? If so, what would it be?

  Violet Ink is told from Izzy’s point of view, but do you think it is her story? Which character do you feel that you get to know best – Izzy or Alex?

  Izzy says she thinks that words are really important and some of her free verses are included in the book. Do you think that the verses add anything to the story? Choose your favourite line from Izzy’s writing and explain what you like about it.

  Izzy writes in one of her verses that: ‘Guilty has a twin sister. Her name is Memories.’ What do you think she means? How does this personification of emotion give us more detail about what life is like after Alex has gone?

  Have you ever experienced a situation where something unexpected has happened and it changes your life forever? Sometimes it can be a really small thing that causes the biggest changes. How did you react? Did you feel like Izzy, as if you had no control, or did you behave differently?