Zach is lovely.
The parents think so too. “What a nice boy,” Mum said when they had gone. Dad said yes, and did she think he should take up the guitar again, and then they went up to bed hand in hand like they’d never had a fight in their whole lives. And Flora beamed and floated on upstairs after them, followed by Twig who is pleased because in one evening he has accumulated not only a sort of brother-in-law who plays football and can build tree houses, but also potentially an actual brother.
Which just left Jas and me.
A baby.
I can’t believe it.
MONDAY, DECEMBER 16
A baby. Not a fatal illness or imminent death or divorce. A baby.
On the way to school this morning, Flora said, “You do realize what this means, don’t you, it means the parents still do it.” Jas said, “Do what?” and Flora said, “Well how do you think babies are made?” Twig made a gagging noise. Jas blushed scarlet and said, “Oh that, I know that!” and then we were silent, all thinking private thoughts about Mum and Dad making babies. It was an enormous relief when Dodi bounced up to us at the crossroads.
“What’s up?” Dodi asked. “You all look a bit sick.”
I told her, and then immediately felt guilty because I’m sure her reaction was exactly what mine should have been.
“That’s AMAZING!” Dodi shouted. “A baby! I love babies! They’re so cute!”
“They cry all night and they poo in their pants,” said Twig. “How is that cute?”
“Oh my God!” Dodi was struck by a sudden thought and just looking at her I could tell what it was. “That means your parents still . . .”
I felt better.
“Babies are cute.” Flora brightened. “When it’s born, Zach and I can take it to the park and pretend it’s ours!”
Twig said that was just weird, but I wish I could be like Flora. Life must be so simple when you’re her.
Me and Dodi skipped assembly. Dodi pretended to have really bad cramps and I said I had to look after her, and we settled on the floor of the science block toilets, which are still pretty clean first thing in the morning.
“Are you pleased?” Dodi asked, and I told her I didn’t know.
“I bet it’s weird,” she said, and I said yes, it was.
“But still, nice,” said Dodi. “And you mustn’t think about Iris. It’s not about her, it’s not about her at all.”
That is why, however annoying she can be, I love Dodi. Because she always knows what I’m thinking.
I wanted to talk to Jake about the baby too, but he was really quiet today. “That’s so awesome,” he said when I told him, but then when I tried to explain how I was feeling about it, I could tell he wasn’t really listening.
“Boys are rubbish at emotional stuff,” Dodi said to make me feel better.
“Jake never used to be,” I replied. Dodi said that she had read in a magazine that some boys find it quite hard to go from friend to boyfriend, and that I had to try and be understanding and give him time and space. So when Jake told me he couldn’t walk home with me after school this afternoon, I just smiled like I really couldn’t care less and said that was fine, because I couldn’t walk home with him, either, and then I went to meet Mum at her office.
I waited for her outside. She came out looking tired but sort of smiley, and like Flora I wondered how none of us never even noticed how much she’s changed. Now that I know she’s pregnant, it seems so obvious. It’s not so much that she has a big round tummy, but her whole body is so much thicker than it used to be. Zoran once told me that people only ever see what they want to see, and I suppose he must be right.
“Blue!” She jumped when she saw me, but I don’t think she was that surprised. I said could we talk, and she tucked her arm into mine and said she knew just the place.
The church was small and dark and cold, but it smelled of incense and someone had put flowers in front of the altar. A priest in long dark robes was talking to an old lady in one of the front pews. He raised his hand at Mum and smiled like he knew her.
“I come in here sometimes at lunchtime,” Mum said. “It’s a nice place to be quiet.”
She led me to one of those tables where you can light candles and put some coins in the box.
“It’s not Christmas yet,” I said.
Christmas is pretty much the only time we ever go to church, to remember Iris, who died on Christmas Eve.
Mum just handed me a candle. I tried to pray, but I’m not very good at praying, so I thought instead. I thought about how Iris would feel if it was her standing here instead of me. Iris loved baby animals, and really a human baby isn’t so different from, say, a puppy or a kitten. I thought about how she would never know this baby, and how wrong that was.
“Do you want to feel it kicking?” Mum whispered, and I wasn’t sure, but she took my hand anyway and put it against her tummy underneath her coat. Apparently I used to always feel Twig and Jas kick when she was pregnant with them, but I can’t remember it and I wasn’t expecting it to feel like that, so strong. I jumped when the baby kicked my hand, and screamed out loud. The priest and the old lady looked up, saw what was going on and smiled.
“How do you think it feels for me?” Mum laughed.
“Do you already love it?” I asked. “Like you love us?”
She took so long to answer I thought maybe she wasn’t going to, but then she said that the way you love a baby is very different from the way you love an older child and that sometimes she thought she loved us all more and more as we grew up. She said nothing mattered more to her in the whole world than keeping us safe and that it still destroyed her to know she couldn’t stop bad things happening to us, and did I understand?
I nodded. I couldn’t speak, because I had such a big lump in my throat.
“You mustn’t worry if you don’t know what to make of it. It’s a lot to think about. Babies upset things, as your father might say.”
“Like boyfriends,” I said. “And kittens.”
I reached out to touch her tummy again. It felt different this time, bigger and rounder than the sharp limb which had jabbed at me earlier
“The head,” Mum said.
“Will I hurt it?”
“It’s tougher than you think.”
I don’t know how long we sat there, me with my head on Mum’s shoulder, her arms around me and my hand on the baby’s head in her tummy. Eventually the old priest coughed and said he was sorry to disturb us but he had to close the church. Mum squeezed me tight before letting me go.
“I want us to make this the best Christmas,” she said. She didn’t say, “since Iris died,” but I knew what she meant. She never answered my question about loving the baby, but she didn’t need to.
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 18
We broke up for the holidays at lunchtime. I went to Home Sweet Home with the others. Colin, Dodi, and Tom were messing around, trying to remember all the verses of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” I sat next to Jake, who was still being really quiet, and then when we left the café I hung back so I could walk with him and asked if he was okay.
Jake said that he was fine.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” I said.
The others had all stopped at the little Christmas market which has been up since the beginning of December. Mostly they sell things like food and mulled wine and expensive stuff we can’t afford, but one stall has an everything under £2.99 section, including a Santa badge Colin was buying for his little sister.
“It’s so awesome,” he said. “Look what happens when you press the middle.”
We looked. The badge lit up and started playing “Jingle Bells.” We all laughed, even Jake.
He has a nice laugh.
“That’s amazing,” I said, because it kind of was.
“My
sister’s going to love it,” Colin said.
“What are you getting Blue for Christmas, Jake?” Dodi asked.
Jake looked a bit panicked at that and said he hadn’t thought about it. I said it didn’t matter, I hadn’t bought him anything yet either, and I was going shopping for presents on Saturday.
“But Jake’s going to his gran’s tomorrow,” Tom said. “You’d better get him something before he goes, Blue, or he might dump you.”
Dodi told Tom he was an idiot.
“I thought you weren’t going to your gran’s till Christmas Eve?” I said to Jake, and he went very red and said that things had changed and he was going early.
A band started playing Christmas songs, and Dodi dragged me off to look at them. The boys joined us a few minutes later. Jake was quieter than ever on the way home, but when we said good-bye in the park, he gave me my present, which was a Santa badge.
“I bought it when you were listening to the band,” he said, looking embarrassed. “You said Colin’s was amazing.”
I pressed the middle. My badge doesn’t play “Jingle Bells,” but Santa still lights up, and he goes Ho, Ho, Ho instead.
“I love it,” I said, and kissed him on the cheek.
There was an enormous Christmas tree standing in the hall when I got home, and Flora, Twig, and Jas were all sitting on the stairs as Zach and Dad struggled to get it straight. Zach is basically at our house all the time now. I think he’s been here every single day after school. Twig has got him working on the tree house and Jas keeps dragging him off for secret talks (which really annoys Flora), and Mum has asked him to stay for supper twice. She’s even invited him to come for Christmas.
I don’t care what Dodi says about boys needing time and space. I just sent Jake a picture of all of us, including Zach decorating the tree. “Wish you were here too!” I wrote, because it was true. Then I told him I was wearing his badge and added lots of kisses.
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 21
Dodi is going skiing with her parents for Christmas this year, but before she left we spent the whole morning at Portobello Market rummaging through secondhand bookstalls until I found exactly what I wanted for Jake, two almost-perfect early 1980s X-Men comics.
“Nice,” Zach said when I showed them to him. “How much did you pay?”
I told him. Then when he looked shocked I said I could have paid a load more, but the person who sold them to me gave me a good price because one of them is a bit torn. Zach, who is kind, said they were a really cool present and Jake would be thrilled. Flora, who is not kind, told me later that Zach said I’d been completely cheated. She said 1980s comics weren’t valuable at all, and next time I should ask Zach for his advice, because he knew all about it.
“I can’t believe Jake buys you a singing badge and you spend all that money on X-Men comics,” Flora said.
“It’s not about the money,” I said, and then I texted Jake to tell him I’ve got him the best present ever.
He wrote, You shouldn’t have, I only got you that badge.
I wrote, I love that badge, and he sent me a smiley face.
It made me feel all warm inside.
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 25
It has been a good Christmas.
Yesterday was Iris’s death day. We went to church again, all six of us, not to a service or anything, just us, like the other day with Mum.
“Everything is changing,” I told Iris in church yesterday. “Mum and Dad are having a baby; Twig and Jas are growing up; Flora has this boyfriend who is practically living with us; and I’m going out with Jake. Remember Jake, from primary school? I really like him. Flora loves change, but I don’t, not really. I was just getting used to the way things were, you know? I don’t know if I’m ready for a whole new set of things.” Dad was praying next to me, his lips moving and everything, and since I know he doesn’t believe in God, I knew that he was talking to Iris too. He saw me looking at him and held out his hand.
“Do you think she minds about the baby?” he asked.
“I think she’s sad she won’t be here for it, but I don’t think she minds,” I told him.
Dad blinked very fast so I wouldn’t notice he was crying.
“Don’t be scared,” I whispered.
“I’m not scared,” he whispered back.
“Me neither.” I smiled, and he smiled back.
“I’m petrified,” he admitted.
Zach didn’t come for Christmas Day, despite Mum’s invitation. He really wanted to, but Zoran says that family is family, and took him to visit his grandfather in hospital in the country, and they’re stopping at the Richmond Hill Retirement Home on the way back to visit Zoran’s great-aunt Alina. Flora says Zach was really hoping his mum would come for Christmas, but he still hasn’t heard from her.
We are going to Zoran’s for lunch tomorrow, but yesterday and today were just about us. It was a completely uneventful day. Just the six of us, shuffling about in our pajamas, opening presents, and eating cake for breakfast and going for a walk because Mum said we had to. Flora cooked dinner. She says she needs the practice for when she leaves home to go and live in a flat with lots of other actors, probably in New York or Los Angeles or somewhere. This basically meant that all of us except Mum (who was resting) and Dad (who was writing—apparently holidays don’t count if you are a creative genius) spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen, which ended up looking even worse than when Mum cooks.
After all our hard work, the turkey was tough, the vegetables weren’t properly cooked, and the potatoes completely burned because Flora decided to do a one-woman rendition of A Christmas Carol when she was meant to be lightly parboiling them. But Jas decorated the table with Christmas themed Haribos; Twig made rum and raisin reindeer-shaped cookies; I made gravy out of a packet which made everything taste nice, if not delicious; and Dad drank too much port as usual and fell asleep on the sofa with Mum while we were cleaning up.
“Look!” Jas dragged us over to look at them. Mum lay at one end of the sofa with her head thrown back and her mouth open, snoring lightly, both hands on her tummy. Dad lay at the other end, his head turned into the cushions, snoring much more loudly, completely unaware of Ron and Hermione, also sleeping and snoring, stretched out across his lap.
Absolutely nothing happened this Christmas, but Mum got what she wanted: It was the best one since Iris died.
THE FILM DIARIES OF BLUEBELL GADSBY
SCENE SIX (TRANSCRIPT)
BOXING DAY LUNCH
INTERIOR, DAY
Inside Zoran’s flat. The small table by the window is crowded with chairs and the remains of lunch (casserole of pork with apricots, shredded greens with chestnuts, cheese and herb dumplings, trifle). ZORAN, JAS, and TWIG sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table, eating a huge tin of traditional Bosnian biscuits known as bear paws, made with walnuts and tossed in sugar (a present from Alina). MOTHER and ZACH sit on the sofa, watching FLORA, who stands before them, trying to act out Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest while CAMERAMAN (Blue) films.
They are playing charades.
Jas, Twig, and Cameraman knew the title the moment Flora started to act it out, but Mother and Zach haven’t got a clue.
MOTHER
Harry Potter!
ZACH
Batman!
MOTHER
Dracula! Robin Hood! Les Misérables!
The doorbell rings. Zoran pads over to the intercom to buzz open the door to the street, then flings open the door to the flat and stands straight like a soldier, holding out the biscuit tin. Nobody else pays attention. They are expecting Father, who skipped lunch to work on his book.
ZACH
Pirates of the Caribbean!
Flora squeals and jumps up and down, making wild hand gestures.
ZACH
Curse of the Black P
earl! At World’s End!! On Stranger Tides!!!
FLORA
YOU ARE BOTH COMPLETELY USELESS!
MOTHER
I know, I know! Dead Man’s Chest!!!!!
FLORA
FINALLY!
By now, Mother and Zach are crying with laughter and hugging each other. Flora drops down next to them, telling them again they were useless. Mother hugs her too.
Zoran comes in from the hallway. Alone.
ZORAN
(very serious)
Zach, you have a visitor.
Zach looks up, still laughing, from the sofa, where Twig and Jas have joined them. A woman walks into the room behind Zoran. Tall, pale, with purple smudges under her dark eyes and long black hair, wrapped in a pale gray cashmere coat which she hugs to her body as if, despite the weather, she is cold. She looks like a fairy-tale queen, or maybe a witch. She also looks familiar.
Mother, Flora, Jas, and Twig, sensing something is wrong, move away from Zach, who scrambles up from the sofa to stand before the stranger.
ZACH
Mum!
Mother signals to Cameraman to stop filming.
Camera goes black.
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 26
Zach stared like he couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Surprise!” she said, but she sounded nervous.
Zach opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Her face fell. He took a step toward her and held out his hand, but it was shaking. He let it drop like he didn’t know what to do with it.
Mum pushed herself up and came to stand beside him, putting her own hand out to steady his.
Following Flora Page 7