Longest Whale Song Read online

  I couldn’t sleep properly anyway, because we’d watched this horribly scary DVD about people in a haunted house. I told her I’d watched it heaps of times already and she believed me. I wanted to show off to Sally that I’d seen a real 18 movie – but I so wished I hadn’t when I went to bed on Liz’s sofa. Every time I closed my eyes I felt I was in that haunted house and the ghosts were about to get me.

  Liz slept ever so late on Sunday morning. I didn’t like to switch on the television in case it woke her up. I’d brought a Tracy Beaker book with me, but I only had twenty pages to go and I finished it too quickly. Tracy wouldn’t stand for her mum getting married. I had a good look through the big fat paperbacks on Liz’s bookshelf, but they all seemed to be about stupid women wanting to meet men. I didn’t want to read about that. So I just lay there on the sofa for hours, missing Mum.

  I cuddle up closer to her now, on the bed.

  ‘We never got to go to the Aquarium and the Natural History Museum and the London Eye in the holidays, Mum. Can we go today?’

  ‘There’s not time now, love.’

  ‘Next Saturday then?’

  ‘I’m too tired for a long day out in London at the moment, sweetheart. I promise we’ll go in a few weeks, when I’ve had the baby.’

  ‘But then you’ll have to push the baby buggy, and it’ll keep crying, and needing to be fed and changed and all that stuff.’

  ‘No, no, we’ll leave the baby with its daddy for the day,’ says Mum.

  ‘Oh! OK then! So Jack’s going to look after the baby too?’

  ‘Of course he is. Even though he hasn’t got a clue about babies. He doesn’t even know which end the nappy goes on!’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘He’ll find out soon enough. He’s very keen. He bought a giant Lego set the other day. I’m sure he thinks the baby’s going to be sitting up and making plastic planes and cars by the time it’s six months old.’

  ‘Jack is so silly,’ I say happily. I’m starting to hope the baby will be a little boy. Then he can play with Jack all the time while Mum and I do stuff together.

  I reach out and gently pat Mum’s huge tummy. ‘Hello, baby. Are you a boy or a girl?’ I ask it.

  I can feel it kicking as if it’s trying to answer me.

  ‘I might be a boy. I might be a girl. You’ll just have to wait and see,’ Mum says, in a teeny baby voice.

  I laugh and Mum laughs, and her tummy wobbles as if the baby is clutching its sides and laughing too.

  ‘Did I kick like that when I was in your tummy, Mum?’ I ask.

  ‘You kicked, but not like this baby. It seems so big and strong. Maybe we’ll have to call him Samson if he’s a boy,’ Mum says. Her voice is a bit gaspy and she clutches her huge tummy.

  ‘Oh, Mum, is it really kicking you so hard that it hurts?’ I ask.

  ‘No, it’s not the kicking. My tummy just felt funny.’

  ‘What kind of funny?’

  ‘I’m not sure. It’s OK again now. Let’s cuddle up and have a little nap, eh?’

  She can’t curl around me because the big bump of the baby gets in the way. I curl around her instead.

  ‘You’re like a big mother whale,’ I say, patting her.

  ‘Thanks a bunch,’ says Mum.

  We settle down and I very nearly go to sleep, but then I notice Mum is breathing in that slow, funny way again.

  ‘You’re practising your breathing, Mum!’ I say.

  ‘I’m doing it for real, sweetheart. I think the baby’s started to come,’ says Mum.

  I sit bolt upright, terrified. ‘Oh, Mum! What shall I do? How will we get you to hospital? Jack’s not here to drive you!’

  ‘It’s OK, don’t panic! We don’t have to do anything for ages and ages. You took a whole day to be born. I’m sure this baby will be the same. We’ll have a cup of tea and then we’ll sort out our suitcases. Mine’s already packed with a new nightie and a set of baby clothes. We’ll just have to get yours sorted, with your pyjamas and washing things and a book to read.’

  ‘I’ll need heaps of books. It’s ever so boring at Aunty Liz’s.’

  ‘Well, it’s very good of her to offer to have you. She’s not really into children.’

  I’m not sure I am either. I don’t ever want to have a baby. Mum keeps saying she’s fine, but every now and then she clutches her tummy, and she’s started to close her eyes and groan.

  For the first time ever, I’m glad when Jack gets home.

  ‘Oh, Jack,’ Mum says. She puts her arms round him and hugs him hard.

  ‘Hello, my Super-Sue. This is a lovely welcome,’ he says, kissing her.

  He waggles his fingers at me. ‘Have you two girls been having fun?’ he asks.

  ‘The baby’s coming!’ I say.

  ‘What? Really? You should have phoned me,’ he says. ‘Oh my goodness, sit down, Sue. Or should you lie down? Or shall I take you straight to the hospital?’ He’s in a right state, as if he’s terrified too.

  ‘Stop flapping, Jack, I’m fine! Ella and I are all packed. I’ve phoned Liz and told her we’ll drop Ella off on the way to the hospital. But we don’t need to go for ages yet.’ Mum breaks off, clutching her tummy and gasping.

  Jack puts his arm round her, staring at her anxiously. She does her breathing, in and out, in and out.

  When she straightens up at last, she goes, ‘Phew!’ and pulls a funny face.

  ‘We’re going to the hospital right now,’ says Jack firmly. ‘Come on, Ella!’

  Chapter 2

  It takes me ages to get to sleep at Liz’s. I keep thinking of poor Mum in pain in the hospital, breathing in and out, in and out, in and out. I breathe along with her, keeping her company long distance.

  I get up to go to the loo, and Liz calls out from her bedroom. ‘Are you all right, Ella?’

  ‘Yes. Maybe. No,’ I say, and start to cry.

  Liz gets up and comes to find me. She stands awkwardly in front of me. ‘Oh dear. Are you crying?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Silly question. And silly answer,’ she says, and she puts her arms round me.

  I howl all over Liz’s silk pyjamas while she pats my back and strokes my hair.

  ‘I want Mum,’ I wail.

  ‘I know. But she’s otherwise engaged right now.’

  ‘She will be all right, won’t she, Liz?’

  ‘Of course. Come on, Ella, she’s not ill, she’s simply having a baby. Millions and millions and millions of women have babies all over the world all the time.’

  ‘Yes, but sometimes they get ill too. Sometimes they die,’ I sob.

  ‘Stop it now. Your mum will be absolutely fine. She’s maybe even had the baby already.’

  ‘No – Jack said he’d phone us.’

  ‘But he wouldn’t phone in the middle of the night, sweetie. Which it is. Now, let’s find you some tissues, because you’re using my PJs like a giant hankie.’

  I mop myself up while Liz puts the kettle on.

  ‘We’ll have a cup of camomile tea. That will make us both sleepy,’ she says.

  Camomile tea is disgusting. I don’t like to say anything because Liz is trying to be really kind to me – but she sees my face.

  ‘Would you sooner have real tea? What do children like to drink? I know, hot chocolate!’

  I don’t really want hot chocolate either, but she makes it specially. I lick all the frothy cream off the top. Liz sips her camomile.

  ‘Didn’t Peter Rabbit drink camomile tea?’ she asks. ‘I’ve got the new baby a lovely little white sleepsuit with Peter Rabbit embroidered on the chest. There’s a big fluffy white blanket to match. Shall I show you?’

  She unwraps them. I hold the little white suit in my arms. It’s as if I’m holding a very tiny floppy baby already. I start rocking it without really thinking.

  ‘There! You’ll be a lovely big sister,’ says Liz.

  ‘No, I won’t,’ I say. I drop the sleepsuit. ‘I don’t want anything to do with this baby. I do