Post by sophie on May 15, 2010 10:30:13 GMT
“Didge! Didge, kick the ball!”
She focused all her attention on it. She wouldn’t miss. She never missed it. With a spark in her eyes she ran forwards and with all her energy connected her foot with the ball, sending in fkying into the air and doing a sweeping arc. She ran forwards, filled with joy, and the sounds of applause from her mother and brother filled the air.
“Whoo!”
“Well done sis! Good job Didge!”
“I told you I could do it,” she said impatiently to Riley. “I never miss.”
“You have missed.”
“Not since I was a kid.”
“You’re still a kid. It was almost as good as me.”
“I’m always better than you, Ri.”
“In your dreams!”
“But this isn’t a dream, is it? This is real.”
“I was the one who taught you how to play!”
“That doesn’t make you better than me.”
“Yes it does.”
“Oh, stop fighting, both of you,” came the voice of their mother.
“Okay Mum,” said Bridget and she and Riley smiled at each other. It was a beautiful day, not too hot and not too cold, just right and the sky was a pure, clear blue. A perfect day.
“Oh Mum, can I have an icecream?” asked Bridget, when she saw the van.
“I don’t have enough change,” said her mother and Bridget groaned.
“Oh stop, whinging,” her mother said sternly. “Aren’t you twelve years old?”
“Eleven,” corrected Bridget. “I’m not twelve for two more weeks.”
“You’re still too old for icecream.”
“I’m never too old for icecream!”
“You’re too old to whinge for it. And you’ll be twelve when the baby comes and you’ll have to start acting your age.”
“You won’t like that Didge,” said Riley. “Not being the baby of the family anymore.”
“I’m not a baby!”
“Yeah, you’re practically a teenager,” said Riley. “You’ll probably want to start wearing makeup and dresses soon.”
“I hate makeup and dresses and I always will!”
“One day you’ll wear them. You might have kids.”
“I’ll never have kids either.”
“One day you might,” said her mother. “Maybe one day. You’ll fall in love my girl and your world might change.”
“It won’t.”
“Anyway, I can’t go squandering money on icecream. The baby’s coming soon. What do you want, a boy or a girl?”
“I don’t know,” said Bridget and she felt a sudden rush of jealousy.
“I want a boy,” said Riley. “I can’t handle another little sister. What would you call a boy, Mum?”
“Maybe Andrew.”
“A girl?”
“I like Clara. I nearly called you that instead of Bridget.”
Bridget walked over and sat by Joanna.
“Are you Clara?” Bridget asked her bump. “Or are you Andrew?”
“You’ll be a good big sister,” her mother told her. “You already are. Oh!” she said suddenly, “the baby’s kicking.”
“Bridget!” called a voice from across the playground and Bridget looked up to see Miranda.
“Bridget, what are you doing?” Miranda cried. “Come here to me! I’m your mother!”
“Mum!” said Bridget, getting up and walking away from Joanna. “Mum, the baby’s kicking.”
A look of sadness crossed Miranda’s face.
“Why do you think I would want to know that?” she asked.
“The baby’s kicking,” Bridget replied, but the world seemed fainter and she seemed older and she found herself awake in bed saying it. It was Saturday morning and she had been eleven a long time ago.
“What?” asked Declan. “The baby’s kicking?”
“No,” said Bridget in confusion. “I was telling Miranda – Mum –“
“So the baby’s not kicking?”
“It is now,” said Bridget, feeling a small motion. “It’s woken up now. It was a strange dream.”
“Was it?” asked Declan and he put his arm round her and she nestled in.
At least I'm safe with him, she thought. And wasn’t it strange; when they had first met she had never felt less secure but it had felt more real – if that was the word. Like they should have known each other before.
“Do you want to get up and get breakfast?”
“Just a minute,” said Bridget gratefully. “Let’s stay a little longer. There’s no rush.”
“Okay.” Declan holding her closer. “What was the dream?”
“Just me when I was young. Riley was there.” The dream was fading. “I was a kid again. It was nearly my birthday.”
“Weird.”
“What did you dream?”
“I dreamt we set up a fairground in the office,” Declan said sheepishly and Bridget laughed and the dream faded.
“What are you going to wear?” asked Declan as she got out of bed. “Your purple dress?”
Bridget froze suddenly.
“I don’t want to wear my dress,” she said angrily. “I hate my dress. I’ve always hated dresses!”
“Jeez, calm down,” said Declan, putting his hands up. “You do have three by the way and you wore one last week. You said it was getting too tight to wear jeans, remember? You don’t have to wear it, it was just a suggestion.”
“I know,” said Bridget, blinking and shaking her head. “Sorry.”
But she shoved the dress to the back of the wardrobe and picked out leggings and a green top.
“What time are you going to Miranda’s?”
“I’m going to Mum’s at one,” said Bridget, placing emphasis on the word. “I can’t wait to see Mum.”
“You should have a good day then.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
“No, you guys should have a proper catchup. I’ll do some food shopping and get some other stuff done whilst Indy’s at Emily’s and then we’ll have dinner.”
“Okay then,” said Bridget. “Well, I guess we should eat breakfast and get Indy up.”
The phone rang whilst they were eating and Declan got up to answer it.
“Yes, that’s us,” he said.
There was a pause and then,
“Okay,” and then another pause and Declan was saying,
“Great! Well, you can pick it up today if you want. Great. Awesome – I mean thanks. Bye.”
“Was that someone for the car?” asked Bridget.
“Yep. They saw our ad and want to pick it up today. They should be coming around twelve.”
“That’s great!” said Bridget but she felt sad all the same.
The buyers came at noon. They were a young couple in their early twenties.
“It’s a great car,” they said admiringly.
“The petrol tank’s full,” Declan said, “and it’s just been serviced so it should be fine.”
“Awesome,” they said, handed over the money and drove away. India was sad and hid her face in Bridget’s side and she couldn’t help but feel the same.
“We’ll get another car again,” she said.
“It won’t be the same.”
“I know. Come on, you need to go to Emily’s soon.”
Bridget drove her over and dropped her off.
“Have a good time Indy and I’ll pick you up at four.”
“Bye Mummy!” said India and she ran inside with Emily.
Bridget drove on out of town. She couldn’t shake the strangeness of the dream. Bridget was a very unsuperstitious woman and as a rule believed that dreams didn’t really have great meanings, but it was odd all the same. But it was just a dream, she told herself. Just things on your mind coming together. It doesn’t mean anything really.
Bridget drove closer to her mother’s house and past a playing field. She gasped as she saw a boy and girl with short, curly brown hair, but they turned round and looked completely different to her and her brother.
Get a grip! she told herself. What was wrong with her today?
Finally she pulled up outside and Miranda was waiting.
“Mum!” she called and went to her as quickly as she could.
“Hello darling,” said Miranda. “Wow, you’re getting big now! Come on inside anyway.”
They went into the house but no one else was there.
“Dad had to do an emergency house call. Someone’s puppy swallowed a penny or something.”
“Oh no.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. They called him straightaway. How are you anyway?”
“Mum,” said Bridget, smiling, “the baby’s kicking!”
“Oh!” gasped Miranda and she smiled, but Bridget caught a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. “That’s wonderful darling!”
“Mum, are you okay?”
“Yes, of course I am.” Miranda tried to sound happy. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Mum, if you’re sad about something you can tell me. You should.”
Miranda hesitated.
“It’s just...I wish I could have known you from day one. Before day one. I wish I could have had a baby. I’m not sorry about how things worked out – I’m so happy we found each other – but I wish we could have known each other from the start – you and Riley.”
“I wish that too. But you’re my mother Mum. You raised me. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t carry me. Pregnancy and birth are just a tiny part of it, that’s not what makes you a mother.”
“I know, and I know you’re my daughter. I chose you and I’ve loved you from that moment. I just wish I could have experienced it – even if it isn’t the most important thing. Oh listen to me, just talking nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense,” said Bridget, and she gave her a hug.
“We sold the car,” she told her a little while later.
“That’s good.”
“Yeah, hopefully we’ll be able to go shopping for some baby things soon. We might get a pram second-hand though – that’d save so much.”
“But you don’t need to do that!” exclaimed Miranda. “We can buy you a pram, me and your dad!”
“Oh,” said Bridget, feeling embarrassed. “Oh Mum, I wasn’t hinting...”
“I know you weren’t. I want to buy you a pram. The baby shouldn’t have a pram from an op shop.”
Bridget felt annoyed.
“Why is everyone being so snobby?” she snapped. “What is so shameful about second-hand things? What about communities years ago, where women just passed round prams? No one bought expensive things then. Why’s that so wrong?”
Miranda looked shocked.
“Nothing – we weren’t trying to say that it’s wrong to shop that way. I won’t buy a pram if you don’t want us to.”
Bridget felt terribly, terribly ashamed. What had come over her?
“Mum, I’m terrible. I was such a cow just then and I don’t even deserve a pram from you. You were just being really nice and I threw it back in your face.”
“It’s fine. It was probably just your hormones.”
“It was horrible, I’m so sorry. I just felt sick of everyone being so shocked at the idea of op shops but that doesn’t excuse me being horrible. I'm sorry.”
“It’s okay Bridget. I understand. The offer still stands. And I’m not buying it because I think op shops are shameful or because I feel that I have to but because I want a present for the baby. It can be something special from us. We bought Indy’s pram, remember?”
“Yes, I do,” said Bridget, feeling ashamed and grateful. “You’re wonderful Mum.”
“I can’t wait to be a grandmother again,” said Miranda and she smiled.
“Mum,” asked Bridget after they had eaten lunch, “do you remember taking us to the park? Me and Ri?”
“I took you to the park a lot of times darling.”
“I know. I don’t know why I’m asking. It was just a dumb dream – me in the park when I was eleven, Riley teasing me, me wanting icecream.”
“Well, I do remember you whinging for it,” said Miranda with a smile. “I remember one day I told you you were nearly twelve. And Riley said you’d still be his baby sister and you said you didn’t want another sibling.”
“Did I?” asked Bridget, feeling very odd.
“I’m sure you would have been a good sister anyway,” said Miranda. “If the impossible had happened. You seem good with Josie and Clara,” she finished awkwardly. It would always feel strange to Miranda to mention Joanna and her family.
“I hope I would have been good then.”
“Anything more to the dream?”
“Oh, just dumb stuff. When’s Riley visiting again?”
“Next month.”
“So’s Rachel. She’ll probably spend most of her time doting on Theo and being an auntie.”
“She’ll spend some time on you too, she’s your best friend. And not too long until you’ll both be doting on your new baby.” Miranda smiled.
“I can’t wait, though it feels so strange. A new baby – I won’t remember what to do," Bridget found herself confessing.
“Oh, yes you will. You got the hang of it very quickly the first time round. Anyway, I’m here if you ever need a babysitter!”
“Thanks Mum,” said Bridget and then she smiled and then felt the flutter.
“The baby’s kicking!” she said and Miranda thought she might cry when she felt it.
“Your dad’s back,” she said, as she heard a key in the lock, and Steve told them that Flossie, the puppy, was fine and he hoped for no more emergency calls that day.
Bridget picked up India.
“We pretended we had horses,” India told her. “Did you ever pretend that?”
“Mm,” said Bridget, but she wasn’t really listening. What was wrong with her mind? Joanna wasn’t her mother, Miranda was her mother and it had been she who had told off Bridget for whinging and Riley for teasing, so why had she recreated the memory? But it was just a dream, she reminded herself sternly. Just a dream.
“What’s up?” asked Declan, when they got in.
“It’s been a strange day,” she answered honestly. “Just a very strange day.”
She focused all her attention on it. She wouldn’t miss. She never missed it. With a spark in her eyes she ran forwards and with all her energy connected her foot with the ball, sending in fkying into the air and doing a sweeping arc. She ran forwards, filled with joy, and the sounds of applause from her mother and brother filled the air.
“Whoo!”
“Well done sis! Good job Didge!”
“I told you I could do it,” she said impatiently to Riley. “I never miss.”
“You have missed.”
“Not since I was a kid.”
“You’re still a kid. It was almost as good as me.”
“I’m always better than you, Ri.”
“In your dreams!”
“But this isn’t a dream, is it? This is real.”
“I was the one who taught you how to play!”
“That doesn’t make you better than me.”
“Yes it does.”
“Oh, stop fighting, both of you,” came the voice of their mother.
“Okay Mum,” said Bridget and she and Riley smiled at each other. It was a beautiful day, not too hot and not too cold, just right and the sky was a pure, clear blue. A perfect day.
“Oh Mum, can I have an icecream?” asked Bridget, when she saw the van.
“I don’t have enough change,” said her mother and Bridget groaned.
“Oh stop, whinging,” her mother said sternly. “Aren’t you twelve years old?”
“Eleven,” corrected Bridget. “I’m not twelve for two more weeks.”
“You’re still too old for icecream.”
“I’m never too old for icecream!”
“You’re too old to whinge for it. And you’ll be twelve when the baby comes and you’ll have to start acting your age.”
“You won’t like that Didge,” said Riley. “Not being the baby of the family anymore.”
“I’m not a baby!”
“Yeah, you’re practically a teenager,” said Riley. “You’ll probably want to start wearing makeup and dresses soon.”
“I hate makeup and dresses and I always will!”
“One day you’ll wear them. You might have kids.”
“I’ll never have kids either.”
“One day you might,” said her mother. “Maybe one day. You’ll fall in love my girl and your world might change.”
“It won’t.”
“Anyway, I can’t go squandering money on icecream. The baby’s coming soon. What do you want, a boy or a girl?”
“I don’t know,” said Bridget and she felt a sudden rush of jealousy.
“I want a boy,” said Riley. “I can’t handle another little sister. What would you call a boy, Mum?”
“Maybe Andrew.”
“A girl?”
“I like Clara. I nearly called you that instead of Bridget.”
Bridget walked over and sat by Joanna.
“Are you Clara?” Bridget asked her bump. “Or are you Andrew?”
“You’ll be a good big sister,” her mother told her. “You already are. Oh!” she said suddenly, “the baby’s kicking.”
“Bridget!” called a voice from across the playground and Bridget looked up to see Miranda.
“Bridget, what are you doing?” Miranda cried. “Come here to me! I’m your mother!”
“Mum!” said Bridget, getting up and walking away from Joanna. “Mum, the baby’s kicking.”
A look of sadness crossed Miranda’s face.
“Why do you think I would want to know that?” she asked.
“The baby’s kicking,” Bridget replied, but the world seemed fainter and she seemed older and she found herself awake in bed saying it. It was Saturday morning and she had been eleven a long time ago.
“What?” asked Declan. “The baby’s kicking?”
“No,” said Bridget in confusion. “I was telling Miranda – Mum –“
“So the baby’s not kicking?”
“It is now,” said Bridget, feeling a small motion. “It’s woken up now. It was a strange dream.”
“Was it?” asked Declan and he put his arm round her and she nestled in.
At least I'm safe with him, she thought. And wasn’t it strange; when they had first met she had never felt less secure but it had felt more real – if that was the word. Like they should have known each other before.
“Do you want to get up and get breakfast?”
“Just a minute,” said Bridget gratefully. “Let’s stay a little longer. There’s no rush.”
“Okay.” Declan holding her closer. “What was the dream?”
“Just me when I was young. Riley was there.” The dream was fading. “I was a kid again. It was nearly my birthday.”
“Weird.”
“What did you dream?”
“I dreamt we set up a fairground in the office,” Declan said sheepishly and Bridget laughed and the dream faded.
“What are you going to wear?” asked Declan as she got out of bed. “Your purple dress?”
Bridget froze suddenly.
“I don’t want to wear my dress,” she said angrily. “I hate my dress. I’ve always hated dresses!”
“Jeez, calm down,” said Declan, putting his hands up. “You do have three by the way and you wore one last week. You said it was getting too tight to wear jeans, remember? You don’t have to wear it, it was just a suggestion.”
“I know,” said Bridget, blinking and shaking her head. “Sorry.”
But she shoved the dress to the back of the wardrobe and picked out leggings and a green top.
“What time are you going to Miranda’s?”
“I’m going to Mum’s at one,” said Bridget, placing emphasis on the word. “I can’t wait to see Mum.”
“You should have a good day then.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
“No, you guys should have a proper catchup. I’ll do some food shopping and get some other stuff done whilst Indy’s at Emily’s and then we’ll have dinner.”
“Okay then,” said Bridget. “Well, I guess we should eat breakfast and get Indy up.”
The phone rang whilst they were eating and Declan got up to answer it.
“Yes, that’s us,” he said.
There was a pause and then,
“Okay,” and then another pause and Declan was saying,
“Great! Well, you can pick it up today if you want. Great. Awesome – I mean thanks. Bye.”
“Was that someone for the car?” asked Bridget.
“Yep. They saw our ad and want to pick it up today. They should be coming around twelve.”
“That’s great!” said Bridget but she felt sad all the same.
The buyers came at noon. They were a young couple in their early twenties.
“It’s a great car,” they said admiringly.
“The petrol tank’s full,” Declan said, “and it’s just been serviced so it should be fine.”
“Awesome,” they said, handed over the money and drove away. India was sad and hid her face in Bridget’s side and she couldn’t help but feel the same.
“We’ll get another car again,” she said.
“It won’t be the same.”
“I know. Come on, you need to go to Emily’s soon.”
Bridget drove her over and dropped her off.
“Have a good time Indy and I’ll pick you up at four.”
“Bye Mummy!” said India and she ran inside with Emily.
Bridget drove on out of town. She couldn’t shake the strangeness of the dream. Bridget was a very unsuperstitious woman and as a rule believed that dreams didn’t really have great meanings, but it was odd all the same. But it was just a dream, she told herself. Just things on your mind coming together. It doesn’t mean anything really.
Bridget drove closer to her mother’s house and past a playing field. She gasped as she saw a boy and girl with short, curly brown hair, but they turned round and looked completely different to her and her brother.
Get a grip! she told herself. What was wrong with her today?
Finally she pulled up outside and Miranda was waiting.
“Mum!” she called and went to her as quickly as she could.
“Hello darling,” said Miranda. “Wow, you’re getting big now! Come on inside anyway.”
They went into the house but no one else was there.
“Dad had to do an emergency house call. Someone’s puppy swallowed a penny or something.”
“Oh no.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. They called him straightaway. How are you anyway?”
“Mum,” said Bridget, smiling, “the baby’s kicking!”
“Oh!” gasped Miranda and she smiled, but Bridget caught a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. “That’s wonderful darling!”
“Mum, are you okay?”
“Yes, of course I am.” Miranda tried to sound happy. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Mum, if you’re sad about something you can tell me. You should.”
Miranda hesitated.
“It’s just...I wish I could have known you from day one. Before day one. I wish I could have had a baby. I’m not sorry about how things worked out – I’m so happy we found each other – but I wish we could have known each other from the start – you and Riley.”
“I wish that too. But you’re my mother Mum. You raised me. It doesn’t matter that you didn’t carry me. Pregnancy and birth are just a tiny part of it, that’s not what makes you a mother.”
“I know, and I know you’re my daughter. I chose you and I’ve loved you from that moment. I just wish I could have experienced it – even if it isn’t the most important thing. Oh listen to me, just talking nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense,” said Bridget, and she gave her a hug.
“We sold the car,” she told her a little while later.
“That’s good.”
“Yeah, hopefully we’ll be able to go shopping for some baby things soon. We might get a pram second-hand though – that’d save so much.”
“But you don’t need to do that!” exclaimed Miranda. “We can buy you a pram, me and your dad!”
“Oh,” said Bridget, feeling embarrassed. “Oh Mum, I wasn’t hinting...”
“I know you weren’t. I want to buy you a pram. The baby shouldn’t have a pram from an op shop.”
Bridget felt annoyed.
“Why is everyone being so snobby?” she snapped. “What is so shameful about second-hand things? What about communities years ago, where women just passed round prams? No one bought expensive things then. Why’s that so wrong?”
Miranda looked shocked.
“Nothing – we weren’t trying to say that it’s wrong to shop that way. I won’t buy a pram if you don’t want us to.”
Bridget felt terribly, terribly ashamed. What had come over her?
“Mum, I’m terrible. I was such a cow just then and I don’t even deserve a pram from you. You were just being really nice and I threw it back in your face.”
“It’s fine. It was probably just your hormones.”
“It was horrible, I’m so sorry. I just felt sick of everyone being so shocked at the idea of op shops but that doesn’t excuse me being horrible. I'm sorry.”
“It’s okay Bridget. I understand. The offer still stands. And I’m not buying it because I think op shops are shameful or because I feel that I have to but because I want a present for the baby. It can be something special from us. We bought Indy’s pram, remember?”
“Yes, I do,” said Bridget, feeling ashamed and grateful. “You’re wonderful Mum.”
“I can’t wait to be a grandmother again,” said Miranda and she smiled.
“Mum,” asked Bridget after they had eaten lunch, “do you remember taking us to the park? Me and Ri?”
“I took you to the park a lot of times darling.”
“I know. I don’t know why I’m asking. It was just a dumb dream – me in the park when I was eleven, Riley teasing me, me wanting icecream.”
“Well, I do remember you whinging for it,” said Miranda with a smile. “I remember one day I told you you were nearly twelve. And Riley said you’d still be his baby sister and you said you didn’t want another sibling.”
“Did I?” asked Bridget, feeling very odd.
“I’m sure you would have been a good sister anyway,” said Miranda. “If the impossible had happened. You seem good with Josie and Clara,” she finished awkwardly. It would always feel strange to Miranda to mention Joanna and her family.
“I hope I would have been good then.”
“Anything more to the dream?”
“Oh, just dumb stuff. When’s Riley visiting again?”
“Next month.”
“So’s Rachel. She’ll probably spend most of her time doting on Theo and being an auntie.”
“She’ll spend some time on you too, she’s your best friend. And not too long until you’ll both be doting on your new baby.” Miranda smiled.
“I can’t wait, though it feels so strange. A new baby – I won’t remember what to do," Bridget found herself confessing.
“Oh, yes you will. You got the hang of it very quickly the first time round. Anyway, I’m here if you ever need a babysitter!”
“Thanks Mum,” said Bridget and then she smiled and then felt the flutter.
“The baby’s kicking!” she said and Miranda thought she might cry when she felt it.
“Your dad’s back,” she said, as she heard a key in the lock, and Steve told them that Flossie, the puppy, was fine and he hoped for no more emergency calls that day.
Bridget picked up India.
“We pretended we had horses,” India told her. “Did you ever pretend that?”
“Mm,” said Bridget, but she wasn’t really listening. What was wrong with her mind? Joanna wasn’t her mother, Miranda was her mother and it had been she who had told off Bridget for whinging and Riley for teasing, so why had she recreated the memory? But it was just a dream, she reminded herself sternly. Just a dream.
“What’s up?” asked Declan, when they got in.
“It’s been a strange day,” she answered honestly. “Just a very strange day.”