Love Is Golden

I had planned to keep well out of the way of the baby after our argument, but then Alex had a bit of a meltdown and spent two whole days sobbing. Mum told me that she’s just exhausted and overwhelmed and Sara coming over didn’t help. She said that it would pass, but that we needed to help Alex rest so that she could look after the baby properly. I felt really guilty. Mum doesn’t know anything about the argument and, even though Alex tried to call me back that day, I ignored her and ran out of the room crying. Part of me wanted her to see what it feels like when you’re left all on your own.

But I didn’t want to make her that upset. I still love her even if she doesn’t love me any more. So we’ve developed a bit of a routine. When I get home from school, Alex has just finished feeding the baby so she puts her in a bouncy chair and I watch her in the kitchen while I do my homework. Alex has a little sleep and then, when Mum gets home, I wake Alex up and we all juggle making the supper and looking after the baby and doing our schoolwork.

The first time I was on my own with Bad-News I was quite terrified. She slept most of the time though and I started to relax a bit. Even so, it’s quite hard to get any homework done because she’s started sucking her fingers when she’s asleep and she looks so gorgeous – it’s quite distracting. I’m still determined not to fall for her charms; she’s pretty good at being a cute baby, but I’m not fooled: she’s probably planning world domination behind those long, flickering eyelashes.

I’ve looked forward to today all week. Charlie is leaving work early and taking Alex and Bad-News over to visit his parents. No crying or screaming or pooing for a whole two hours. As I walk up the front path and put my key in the door, I think about how much work I’m going to get done. In complete and utter peace and quiet.

I open the front door and step inside, calling ‘hello’ just in case their plans have changed and Bad-News is waiting somewhere to leap out at me. But the house is silent and I feel a shiver of something unusual flood through me. I put my shoes neatly in the corner and walk into the kitchen, trying to shake off the odd feeling that is everywhere. Bad-News’s bouncy chair is by the back door and it looks strange without her in it. I go to put the kettle on and see her bottle next to the sink. I am completely unprepared for the panic that follows: what if Alex forgot to take any milk? I look at the clock. Bad-News will be starving by now. I pace the kitchen, unsure what to do until I realize that I can’t do anything.

I make a drink and get out my homework, but it isn’t the same without my foot bouncing the chair up and down. I consider putting her chair next to me anyway, but decide that would be just too weird. I try for a few more minutes, but my attention isn’t there. All I can think about is whether Bad-News is hungry and if Charlie’s parents are being nice to her or treating her like a ‘blip’ – that’s what Charlie’s mum said that day in our kitchen.

By the time I hear Charlie’s car pull up on the road, I’ve virtually worn out the carpet in front of the living room window. I make myself wait while Alex gets out of the car and Charlie unstraps the car seat, and then I watch as Alex waves goodbye to Charlie and walks up the front path. Then I run to the front door and yank it open, grabbing the car seat out of her hands and putting it down on the hallway floor.

‘Steady!’ laughs Alex. ‘You’re keen today.’

I undo the straps and gently lift Bad-News out of her seat, looking at her carefully.

‘Have you fed her?’ I demand.

‘Er – yes, Izzy,’ says Alex, shrugging herself out of her coat.

‘And were they nice to her?’ I ask, snuggling her next to me and sniffing her head. It turns out that they knew what they were talking about. Bad-News’s head smells way better than any shampoo ever could.

‘They loved her,’ says Alex, crouching down next to me. ‘What’s wrong, Izzy? I thought she was just a bit of a nuisance to you?’

I rest Bad-News on my knees and put my hands over her ears, glaring at Alex.

‘Don’t say things like that in front of her!’ I say. ‘You’ll make her feel sad. She IS a little bit of a nuisance, but she’s our nuisance.’ I look at Bad-News and feel a surge of love running through my body. I will never, ever let anything happen to this baby, even if she is a complete pain and noisy and actually quite smelly.

‘I missed you,’ I whisper and I’m not sure if I’m talking to Alex or Bad-News or maybe both.

Alex puts her arm round me and we sit on the floor together, looking at the scrunched-up face in front of us.

‘We missed you too, Izzy,’ Alex whispers back. ‘I can’t do this without you. I could start saying sorry for all the things I’ve got wrong, but if I do I’ll still be saying sorry when I’m an old lady.’

‘I’m sorry too,’ I tell her. She laughs.

‘You’ve got nothing to be sorry for! I just need you to promise me one thing.’

‘Anything,’ I say, looking up at her and holding Bad-News tight.

‘Even when I’m being a cow, don’t forget that I love you. Forever.’

I should feel happy, but I don’t. I look down at Bad-News again and think about how to ask Alex the question that’s been bothering me for a while.

‘What about the baby? You told me that you love her more than anything. It’s OK – I understand if you love her more than me. She is pretty special.’

Alex pulls me closer to her. ‘I DO love her more than anything. But she hasn’t taken any of the love I have for you away, Izzy. It’s totally different. You’re YOU, Izzy – the most amazing, unique, precious and special little sister in the universe. I love you for being YOU just like I love her for being HER! And I love you both more than anything, just in different ways.’

I think about that for a moment. And, actually, that makes some kind of sense. Life is different now, but if different means having Alex AND Bad-News to love then different is OK. I think I like different.