Longest Whale Song (6 page)

I know what she means. She's saying,
Don't worry, Mum won't die if you go off to the park
. That's why we're here all the time. We're so scared she's going to die, every second is precious.

‘Do you want to come and find this park, Ella?' says Jack.

I shake my head. He doesn't try to persuade me. We sit it out. Some of the teachers from Garton Road come after school. They're not allowed to see
Mum but they stand in the corridor with Jack. They all hug him, even the men. One of the women starts crying. They've brought all sorts of presents – flowers and baby things and bottles of wine. Mum can't drink
wine
. I suppose they're presents for Jack.

It's not fair – Jack can see all his stupid old teacher friends but I can't see
my
best friend, Sally. I feel a huge pang. I suddenly miss Sally so much. I only saw her on Friday but already it seems like years ago.

When Jack and I go home eventually, I say I want to ring Sally.

‘Isn't it a bit late? Won't she have gone to bed by now?'

I think he's maybe right, but I take no notice. ‘Sally stays up
ever
so late, ten, eleven o'clock, even later,' I lie.

‘Well, finish your sweet and sour pork first,' says Jack. ‘It'll be horrid if you let it get cold.'

I think it's horrid anyway. We got the Chinese takeaway on the way home. It's supposed to be a treat.

‘Please let me phone Sally now,' I whine.

Jack sighs and says OK, if I really want to. He keeps giving in to me now Mum's ill. It feels so weird. He used to be strict, always ticking me off
and bossing me about, telling Mum she let me get away with murder – and then, when I sulked, he'd crack silly jokes and expect me to laugh along with him. It would be bad enough having Jack for a teacher. It's absolutely awful to have him as a stepdad.

I hate it when he's mean to me, but I think I hate it even more when he's kind. It makes me feel as if I've been turned inside out. I need to be twice as mean back to him to try to make it seem normal.

He's giving me this understanding, encouraging smile as he sits thereon the sofa. I don't give him even the merest glimmer of a smile back. I shut the living-room door on him, making it plain I want a bit of privacy.

I dial Sally's number on the phone in the hall and then stand waiting, heart thumping.

It's Sally's mum. I find my eyes filling with tears. Sally's soft blonde mum who puts yoghurt raisins in her packed lunches and gives her chocolate cookies when she comes home from school, and still reads her bedtime stories – Sally's mum, who's almost as lovely as my mum.

‘Hello? Is anyone there?' she says.

‘It's me, Ella,' I whisper.

‘Oh goodness, Ella! You're phoning very late,
sweetheart. Sally's already upstairs in bed. Has Mum had the baby yet?'

‘Mm.'

‘Oh, wonderful! Is it a little girl or a little boy?'

‘A boy.'

‘What's he going to be called?'

‘Samson.'

‘Oh, that's a very special name. So, is Mum back from the hospital yet?'

I swallow painfully. ‘Not yet.
Please
may I speak to Sally, Mrs Edwards?'

‘Well, I'll go and see if she's still awake. Won't be a moment, pet.'

I wait, rubbing my eyes, standing on one foot and then the other. ‘Please please please let Sally come to the phone,' I whisper, over and over.

‘Hello?' she says sleepily.

And then I don't know what to say to her.

‘Hello? Ella, are you still there? What are you playing at?'

‘I'm here. Hello, Sally,' I say in a tiny voice.

‘What? I can hardly hear you! Why haven't you been at school? I've phoned you twice but you weren't there. It's been horrid without you. I haven't had anyone to go round with at play time. I ended up playing Piggy-in-the-Middle with Dory and Martha. Dory's OK, she's quite good fun.
Remember when she brought that mouse to school in her pocket? But I can't stick Martha – she's always showing off. Ella? Are you ill?'

‘No,' I say, though I realize I've been feeling ill for days. My head hurts and I feel sick and my tummy's tight all the time.

I can hear Sally's mother talking in the background.

‘Oh, Mum says your mum's had her baby!'

‘Yes.'

‘You lucky thing! I'd give anything for a baby brother or sister. I think babies are so cute.'

‘You've got Benjy.'

‘Yuck, he doesn't count, and he's not a baby, he's more like an
animal
. Is your baby a boy too? Watch out he doesn't grow up like our Benjy, he's enough to drive you mental. Did I tell you he broke my pen the other day? You know, my real fountain pen. He
stabbed
me with it and bent the nib in two.' She pauses. ‘Ella? What's your baby like then? Are you allowed to feed it and dress it and all that?'

‘Well, I suppose so. When he comes home.'

‘Is he still in hospital then?'

I hear Mrs Edwards muttering again.

‘Is he . . . all right?' says Sally.

‘Yes. Yes, he is. He's fine,' I say. I feel the tears spilling down my cheeks. ‘It's my mum.'

‘What do you mean, your mum?'

‘She isn't all right. She's had something go wrong inside her head. She's gone to sleep and she won't wake up,' I whisper.

‘You mean she's
dead
?' says Sally.

Her mother exclaims and snatches the phone. ‘Oh, Ella, sweetheart, how
awful
!' she says, sounding truly shocked.

‘Mum's not dead, but – but she's in this coma thing.' I'm crying so hard now I can barely talk.

‘Let me speak to your dad, dear,' says Mrs Edwards.

‘He's not my dad, he's my stepdad,' I gabble, and then go running for Jack.

He stays on the phone to Mrs Edwards for ages. It's not fair. I wanted to have a proper talk with Sally. I wanted her to tell me how sorry she was and how she'd give anything to make it up to me. I needed her to tell me she'd be my best friend for ever, no matter what. I wanted her to say all those things but she didn't get a chance – and then Jack hangs up the phone before I even get to say goodbye to her.

‘I didn't get to talk to her
properly
,' I sob.

‘I know. But it's getting really late now. And I think you should go to school tomorrow, so you can see her there and catch up with everything,' says
Jack. He flops down wearily on the sofa and opens a can of beer. He's hardly touched his Chinese either.

‘I can't go to
school
, not when Mum's ill,' I say, outraged.

‘Ella, it looks like Mum might be ill for a long time,' says Jack. ‘You can't stay off school week after week. And neither can I. I've got to go back soon too.'

‘Are you going to Garton Road tomorrow then?'

‘No, I've got things to do.' He kicks the tray of lukewarm Chinese with his foot. ‘I've got to go and do some shopping for a start.'

‘You're going
shopping
?'

‘We've got to start eating some decent food – we can't live on takeaways. And I've got to see if I can find someone to look after the baby.'

‘But the nurses look after him in the hospital.'

‘Yes, but he can't stay there, not indefinitely. He's got to come home with us, so we need a nursery or a childminder or someone to look after him during the day while I'm teaching. Mum was going to look after him herself for six months so we hadn't got anyone lined up yet.' He looks at me, rubbing his eyes. ‘We'll have to find someone to look after you too whenever I have to work late. There's so much to organize. I can't get my head
round any of it just at the moment. Anyway, off you hop to bed. And tomorrow morning I'll drive you to school, and then come and pick you up afterwards and take you to see Mum then.'

‘No! I need to be
with
Mum.'

‘Well, you can't,' Jack snaps. ‘Will you just stop arguing! I'm trying my hardest to do what's best for you. It doesn't help if you argue back all the time.'

‘I don't always argue.'

‘There you go! For pity's sake, Ella. Couldn't you try to be reasonable and do as you're told just for a few days, while Mum's so ill?'

‘Mum's ill because of you! If you hadn't come along, she wouldn't have had the baby, and so she wouldn't have got ill!' I shout. ‘It's all your fault, Jack.'

He stares at me, shaking his head. ‘Ella, it's not anybody's fault. We weren't to know Mum would have this reaction. She was absolutely fine when she had you.'

‘Yes, we were all fine then, Mum and my real dad and me.'

‘I know you find it hard that I'm your stepdad—'

‘I wish you weren't!'

‘I wish I wasn't too!' he shouts.

I run out of the room and up the stairs. There!
I
knew
he didn't like me. He's as good as said so. I don't know why it's making me cry so much. It just feels so
lonely
. I haven't got anyone else but Mum. Jack wishes I wasn't here. Liz doesn't want me around. Sally doesn't understand.

I lie down on my bed and cry and cry. I keep waiting for the footsteps on the stairs – but Jack doesn't come. So at long last I wash my sodden face and get into my pyjamas and crawl into bed.

I lie under the covers, arms wrapped tightly round myself. I haven't got a proper mum any more, I haven't got a dad . . . Well, I
do
have a dad. A real one, not a stepdad.

I screw up my face in the dark, trying to conjure up my dad. I last saw him two years ago – maybe three. He came to take me out on my birthday. Mum and I couldn't believe it when we opened the door.

‘Surprise!' he said.

It was
such
a surprise we just gaped at him. For a second or two I didn't even guess that he was my dad. I thought he was someone else's dad, or maybe one of Mum's teacher friends, or a seldom-noticed neighbour. Then of course I realized. This was
my
dad, and he had his arms open wide and he was hugging me. I felt hot with embarrassment, my face crammed against his stripy shirt.

‘My lovely little Ella,' he said.

I was only small then but I knew he was expecting some kind of loving reaction. I thought of Mum's favourite old DVD,
The Railway Children
.

‘Daddy, oh, Daddy,' I said in a choked voice.

He said he wanted to take me out and buy me the best birthday present in the world, whatever I wanted.

‘Come on, sweetheart, get your coat. We're off to the shops,' he said, spinning me round.

‘Well, that's a lovely idea, and of course Ella is thrilled, but in half an hour's time nine little girls are arriving for her birthday lunch,' Mum said. ‘I think maybe you'll have to go
after
the party.'

Dad looked fed up at first, and we both wondered if he was going to walk out then and there. But he stayed for the afternoon. He was actually the life and soul of the party. He played all the games with us, and jumped about when we danced, and conducted everyone when they sang ‘Happy Birthday'. He played his own grizzly-bear game with us, giving every single one of my friends a bear ride on his back. They all squealed with joy and said, ‘Oh, Ella, you're so
lucky
, you've got such a funny dad.'

Then they all went home, and Dad was as good as his word.

‘Right, Ella, serious shopping time,' he said.

He didn't ask Mum to come with us. I feel so dreadful remembering. I just left her tidying up after the party. Dad and I went to a big shopping centre and he bought me a new sky-blue dress (to match my eyes, he said). He gave me a giant teddy bear with a blue ribbon round its neck, though I didn't really
want
it because it had such beady eyes. But I thanked Dad very, very much all the same, and made a great show of hugging the huge bear, though it made my arms ache. Dad must have detected my lack of enthusiasm.

‘We're not done yet,' he said. ‘One more present to make it the best birthday ever. What would you really, really like?'

I thought hard. Martha at school had just had her ears pierced and we had all tutted and squealed enviously over her little gold studs.

‘Please can I have my ears pierced?' I asked Dad.

I expected him to laugh at me and say, no way, not until I was a teenager. But he just shrugged and said, ‘That's fine with me, darling. Let's go and find a jeweller's.'

I jumped up and down with joy, but when I was actually sitting down in the back of the jewellery shop, I wasn't so sure it was a good idea. I felt a bit faint and funny when they did my ears, and cried
a little, but Dad gave me a cuddle and said I was his big brave girl. He said my new earrings looked beautiful.

When we got home hours later, Mum flew at me and hugged me tight as if she thought she'd lost me for ever. Then she saw my ears. She got really, really mad.

‘How
dare
you have her ears pierced!' she screamed at Dad.

‘She wanted them pierced, she practically begged me,' he said.

‘Of course she begged! Every little girl wants her ears pierced. But Ella's my daughter and I didn't want her little ears stuck all over with horrible studs!'

‘She's my daughter
too
and I don't think it matters a damn. I just want to make her happy,' Dad shouted back.

They had a horrible row then. I crept into the kitchen, dragging my big bear along with me, and nibbled miserably at birthday-cake icing. Then Dad came in and said goodbye to me. He said I was his birthday princess and I wasn't to listen to silly old Mummy, the earrings looked beautiful. He promised he'd come and see me again very soon – maybe the very next Saturday.

I wore my new blue dress every Saturday for the
next six months, even in winter, but he never came back. He's always sent Christmas presents though. He's sent me several pairs of earrings, but actually they're no use to me now. Mum made me take the first little studs out the very same day and the holes closed up.