The Mum-Minder Read online

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  'We'll have to go to your office/ I said. 'We'll fit into a corner, like you said. And we can crayon and I can make them all the paperclip necklaces and it'll be like a playland.'

  'Playland! I want to go to playland!'

  said Gemma.

  'Playland, playland,' said Vincent.

  'Play!' said Sara.

  'Pa-pa-pa,' said Clive.

  'I wish I'd kept my big mouth shut,'

  said Vincent's dad.

  He wouldn't attempt to take us to his office on the tube. He bundled us into a taxi.

  'Are you a new kind of nanny,

  Gov?' said the taxi driver.

  'Certainly not,' said Vincent's dad, struggling to keep control of his son while our Sara tore his newspaper into shreds and baby Clive yelled because he didn't know where he was going.

  Gemma and I sat up straight and looked out of the windows, as good as gold.

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  'Is Playland nice, Sadie?' Gemma asked.

  'I hope so,' I said.

  Vincent's dad worked in a great glass building. His office was right at t h e top so we had to go up in a big lift.

  It went fast and we all held our tummies and sucked in air through o u r t e e t h . E v e n Clive stopped squawking and hissed in astonish-ment, not sure whether he liked this new sensation or not.

  Vincent's dad worked in a great big room with huge windows.

  'They don't open easily, do they?' I said. I am very responsible about child safety. Vincent's dad didn't seem to appreciate this at all.

  'If they did open then I think I'd throw myself out,' he said. 'Look at them!'

  Gemma and Vincent and Sara and

  Clive had instantly made themselves at home. They'd t a k e n Vincent's dad at his word. It really was Playland.

  G e m m a h a d recognized t h e 60

  computer on the desk and was stab-bing happily and haphazardly at the buttons.

  Vincent had found a fat felt-tip pen and was decorating a pile of official papers with yellow scribble.

  Sara had overturned a big pot

  plant and was making a mud pie on the carpet.

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  Clive was lying on his back

  exercising his lungs, as he was still too little to play properly.

  Vincent's dad groaned and called feebly for his secretary.

  'I am prepared to pay you a double wage today, Karen, so long as you take these dreadful children off my hands,' he said weakly.

  Karen giggled. 'Ah yes. Your wife's just sent a fax to see if the children are all right.'

  'The children are fine, as you can see. I'm the one who is suffering. I'd like a black coffee and two aspirin, please.'

  I helped Karen round everyone up.

  She took us to the typing pool.

  Gemma got disappointed because she thought she'd be able to paddle in this new pool, but she soon perked up when she saw all the word processors.

  She climbed on and off the typists'

  laps, playing with these lovely new machines.

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  All the typists made a great fuss of Vincent too. He ordered them about just like his dad. They sat him up on a desk with a pen and a memo pad and called him Sir.

  They found a special job for Sara.

  The office paper-shredder was on the blink so they sat Sara down with all the unwanted paper and Sara tore and tore and tore it all into shreds.

  You could soon barely spot her under a great mound of scrumpled paper.

  63

  I palled up with the tealady and went all round the huge building with her, giving out all the cups of tea from her trolley. I could eat as many buns and biscuits as I wanted. I took Clive with me and whenever he got restless I just zapped him into a lift and took him for a quick trip up to the top and back.

  When we'd finished the tea-round, the tealady took Clive over for a bit and I lay on top of the emptied tea-trolley, kicked off with my feet and went whizzing along the corridor. It 64

  was better t h a n t h e biggest skate-board. I nearly ran over Vincent's dad when he stepped out of his office but he managed to leap out of the w a y j u s t i n t i m e .

  He had a right cheek. Vincent's mum turned up at lunchtime, saying she'd got all her work done so she'd t a k e us over for t h e afternoon.

  Vincent's dad acted as if he'd looked after us single-handed, and Vincent's mum said she was sorry and she

  thought he was splendid and when my m u m was well enough to babysit she'd take him out for a slap-up meal to say t h a n k you.

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  Vincent's mum took Vincent and

  Gemma and Clive and our Sara and me to a McDonald's for our lunch, which was great, and then she took us to a proper playground. Vincent's mum sat on a bench and did some of her paperwork while I pushed everyone on the swings and then we all sat in the sandpit and made sandcastles.

  Whenever anyone started crying, Vincent's mum bought ice-creams from a nearby van. We ended up

  having three or maybe it was four ice-creams, even Clive.

  Clive wasn't the only one who was sick on the train going home.

  66

  Mum's a bit better. She was worried when she heard about the argy-bargy between Vincent's mum and Vincent's dad.

  'I think I'd better get back to looking after all the children today,' Mum said, and she got up for breakfast.

  'Oh Mum, don't be silly. You still seem very fluey to me,' I said.

  'I certainly look a bit fluey,' said Mum, running her fingers through her straggly hair and rubbing her poor red nose. 'But I still think it's time I took over. It sounds as if you're all running wild.'

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  'Grrr,' I said, baring my teeth and making my hands into claws.

  'Grrr,' Sara copied, biting her breakfast banana very savagely.

  'Anyway, Mum, you can't take over today. We'll miss out on all the fun,' I said tactlessly. 'I can't wait to go to Clive's mum's chocolate shop. Yum yum yum.'

  'Yum yum,' said Sara, slobbering.

  'Yes, t h a t ' s what I'm worried about,' said Mum. 'Sara was sick yesterday. I don't want her eating lots of chocolate today and getting sick again.'

  'It's OK, Mum. I'll look after her.

  I'm the mum-minder now and I'm

  supposed to be looking after you. So you go back to bed. You look all white and wobbly.'

  'I do feel a bit shaky. All right then, Sadie.'

  'That's a good mum,' I said. 'Back to bed. I'll come and tuck you up in a minute.'

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  We both giggled because every-

  thing was back to front and it

  sounded so funny, me telling Mum what to do. I don't want Mum to stay ill, but I wish I could always boss her around!

  Clive's mum could do with being a bit bossier. She's little, not all that much bigger than me, and I bet I weigh more. I know if I worked in a chocolate shop I'd grow very big indeed. It's such a wonderful shop.

  J u s t the rich, creamy, chocolaty smell makes your mouth start water-ing. Clive's mum showed us all round the big glass cabinets piled high with hazelnut truffles and white whirly creams, strawberry marzipans and violet fondants, sugar mice and chocolate teddies.

  'Can I have a chocolate teddy?'

  Gemma asked, reaching out.

  'Chocolate ted!' Vincent demanded, grabbing.

  'Choc choc!' said Sara, scrabbling.

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  'No, wait a minute! You mustn't touch, dears. Gemma, put it down, darling. Vincent, no! And look at Sara, she's dribbling all over the dis-play,' said Clive's mum, dashing from one to the other.

  Clive decided he wanted his mum's attention for himself.

  'Oh dear. I don't know why he's crying, he's only just had his bottle,'

  said Clive's mum. 'Look, Gemma

  dear, I don't really think your mummy would like you to have

  another chocolate teddy. Vincent, don't touch those chocolate boxes! Oh 70

  dear, Sara. No, p
oppet, take it out of your mouth.'

  I sussed out a stock-room at the back, with big empty cardboard

  boxes. I grabbed Sara and Gemma and lifted them into one box. It was more of a struggle with Vincent, but I eventually seized hold of him under the armpits and hauled him into the back room and caged him in another cardboard box.

  'You're all wild animals in the zoo,'

  I said quickly. 'And it's feeding time.

  I'm the keeper and I've just fed you, right? You've got to growl back at me, grrrr, grrrr.'

  'Grrr,' said Sara, who was used to this game.

  Luckily, Gemma and Vincent

  thought it was fun too. They gnawed their stolen chocolate and growled contentedly. Clive did his best to play, roaring magnificently. He was a little too young for a cardboard cage and he was only allowed the merest lick of chocolate, so I carried him round and round the shop to quieten him down.

  'You're such a good girl, Sadie.

  You've got them all sorted out in no time,' said Clive's mum gratefully.

  'Here, you'd better help yourself to a chocolate too.'

  I rather hoped she'd offer me one. I wanted to show how grown up I am so I tried a liqueur chocolate. I was a bit disappointed in the taste. I hoped I'd get drunk. I started swaying about the shop experimentally and baby Clive chuckled, enjoying getting jiggled around. I decided to sober up, because I remembered what happened if you jiggled him too much. I 72

  also knew we couldn't let the children chomp chocolate all day long.

  When the wild animals finished feeding and started to get so restless they were breaking right out of their cages, I offered to t a k e them for a walk on the common.

  Clive's mum said she thought this was a wonderful idea but she didn't see how I could manage all the babies by myself. I suggested putting the two littlest in the double buggy and tying Vincent and Gemma with chocolate-box ribbon like a lead. Clive's mum 73

  still looked doubtful, but then Clive's granny came into the shop to see how she was coping.

  I'll take little Clive off your hands for an hour or so,' she offered.

  'We could all go for a walk

  together,' I suggested.

  'Oh no, dear, I don't think that's a good idea,' said Clive's granny quickly, but she w a s n ' t quick enough.

  'Let's go for a walk,' said Gemma, holding out her sticky hand.

  'Me want to go for a run,' said Vincent, already at the door.

  'Walk! Run!' Sara insisted.

  Clive joined in the general uproar, telling his granny that he wanted his friends to go with him.

  She was stuck with us. She didn't really do anything. She just pushed the buggy while I kept tight hold of Gemma and Vincent, and then when we got to the common she sat on a bench with Clive perched on her knee.

  74

  'You're free for a bit, wild animals,'

  I said, letting them go.

  Gemma growled her way through

  the jungly bushes. Vincent galloped over the plain. Sara stalked prey in the undergrowth. They made a lot of wild animal noises. So did Clive. His granny bounced him up and down on her knee. She bounced him a bit too vigorously. I helped her mop him up.

  Then I rounded up all my wild animals. That took quite a time. I had to wrestle with them before they would submit. But at last I got them all reasonably tamed and we trailed back to the shop.

  75

  Clive's gran said she was exhausted and she'd have to go home for a lie down. Clive's mum and I had a little giggle about her after she'd gone. Then we gave the littlest wild animal his bottle, and fed the others on Marmite sandwiches and crisps and carrots and orange juice. They'd already had more than enough chocolate.

  I still felt I hadn't had quite enough chocolate. I hadn't rudely grabbed for myself like the little kids, and the chocolate liqueur had come as a bit of a disappointment. I thought about this rather wistfully as I helped change and pot the wild animals (not yet properly house-trained) and then settled them down in their cardboard cages for a nap. All that running wild seemed to have tired them out. They were all fast asleep within five minutes.

  I tiptoed out of the stock-room to join Clive's mum. There was a chocolate heart waiting for me on the counter. It had a special message in 76

  swirly pink icing: Thank you, Sadie!

  I said a lot of thank-yous back and ate it all up. It tasted wonderful.

  Clive's mum showed me how to

  write swirly messages myself using the icing bag. I practised on a paper bag at first because my writing went a bit haywire, but when I'd got the knack she let me write my own message on a heart: Get well soon, Mum.

  'Ah, that's lovely,' said Clive's mum. 'Yes, I think we're all wishing that, Sadie.'

  77

  My chocolate heart worked. Mum is very nearly better. Nan's getting better too and says she'll be back to help Mum on Monday. When I told her

  how I'd been mum-minding she said I was a Little Treasure. Grandad said I was too. He says he's still feeling poorly. Nan says he just wants to lie back in bed and be waited on hand and foot, and he isn't half getting on her nerves.

  Mum and I are getting on just

  great. Saturdays are good anyway 78

  because t h e dads t a k e over t h e babies. Our dad doesn't often come for Sara and me, but t h a t doesn't matter. Us girls stick together.

  We all had a bit of a lie in and then I got up and made tea and toast, and Sara and I got in Mum's bed and we had breakfast together. It got a bit crumby but it was very cosy all the same.

  Then I got Sara sorted out and put her in her playpen.

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  Then I got Mum sorted out too. I poured lots of bubbles in the bath and she lay back in it like a film star and then I helped her wash her hair. We played hairdressers after, and I did her hair in all different daft styles, and then Sara wanted to join in, even though she's just got these little feathery curls that stick straight up in the air. Clive's mum had given me some of the chocolate-box ribbon so I tied a blue bow round Sara's biggest 80

  curl, and she chuckled when she saw herself in the mirror.

  Then Mum brushed her hair out

  into her own proper style and got dressed and put some powder on her poor sore nose so that it didn't look so red.

  'There! I look a new woman,' said Mum. 'I think I'm up to a little outing.'

  We went down to the shopping

  centre, the three of us. I made Mum wrap up really warm with an extra jumper and a scarf. We had a morning coffee together, with Danish pastries, one each. Sara just sucked the jam off 81

  hers but she enjoyed it a lot, so it wasn't wasted. She was quite happy swinging her legs in the roomy buggy and licking her lips while Mum and I sat and chatted like grown-up ladies.

  Then we went round the shops for a bit, looking at all the toys and clothes and choosing what we'd buy if we had all the money in the world. But then 82

  Mum got a bit tired so we caught the bus home.

  I put Sara down for her nap.

  I put Mum down for a nap and all.

  Then I did a bit of tidying and swept the floor and stuffed some things in the washing machine. A woman's work is never done. Ha ha.

  Mum was ever so pleased when she woke up. She gave me the rest of her Get Well Soon, Mum chocolate heart.

  She'd only had two bites. She still hasn't got her appetite back, but she 83

  really is practically better. She says I've been the best mum-minder in the whole world.

  Mum did the ironing herself this evening because I get things a bit scrumpled when I have a go. But I put Sara to bed. I read her Dominic the Vole. Some of the words are missing where she's had another savage gnaw, but it doesn't matter. I have 84

  read Dominic the Vole at least one hundred times and I know it off by heart.

  Then when Sara was settled, I read to Mum while she ironed. I read her this holiday diary and she didn't half laugh.

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  This isn't
just a holiday diary. It's a h u g e g r e a t blockbusting book. I ought to get a gold star for extra effort at the very least (hint hint).

  Maybe I ought to be a writer when I grow up. Though I think I'd sooner have my own chocolate shop. I'd still like to be a policewoman too. And you get lots of money if you work in an office, so t h a t you can buy ten or twenty ice-creams on the trot without fussing. But I know one thing.

  I'm never going to be a childminder.

  86

  I've done enough of t h a t to last me six centuries.

  I've finished being a mum-minder too. My mum's completely better.

  87

  She took Sara and me to the

  Leisure Centre this afternoon. It was absolutely great. Rachel from up the road was there too, and we went in the big pool and splashed in the foun-tains and screamed non-stop when they switched the big wave on. Mum went in the baby's pool with Sara.

  Sara splashed and screamed a lot too, and kicked her fat little feet about. I played with her for a bit while Mum had a swim. I swooped her up and down so she had her own little wave.

  She didn't half like that.

  But after a bit she started to get shivery. So did I. So we all got out 88

  and Mum wrapped us both in big

  towels and then when we were dry and dressed we went and had a hot chocolate in the cafe. (Sara just had a teaspoon of froth off the top.) Funny though. I still couldn't get properly warm. Sara started sneezing on the way home.

  'Oh no,' said Mum. 'Don't say

  Sara's got my flu. Poor little poppet.'