Getting It Right

By Jenny Worstall

Illustration: Shutterstock

It seems everyone in Tom’s family is a bit preoccupied, but then everything is about to change…

Mum! Will you read this through – and check the spellings? Mrs Brown said I had to be more careful with my homework this week.”

Tom stood on one leg next to Sally in the kitchen and practised a few swishy kicks while she started reading his exercise book.

“Alexander the Grate never lost a battle… he was feers and mean…” Sally bit her lip to stifle a giggle. “Oh, Tom darling, Alexander wasn’t anything to do with fireplaces, was he?”

“Fireplaces?” Tom asked, mystified. “What do you mean?”

“You know, the grate of a fireplace? I think he was a different sort of great, although not so great if he was fierce and mean. He must have killed lots of people in battle but he is still known as Alexander the Great.

“Now, let’s see if we can correct this and maybe a few other spellings too; do you think some punctuation would be a good idea, a few full-stops and commas? Come and sit down – I’ll help.”

But Tom had already run outside to the garden.

When Sally looked out of the window, he was busy leaping and stretching, kicking and dribbling, preparing for his next football match.

“I left him outside,” Sally said to her husband Joe later, on his return from work. “It seemed unfair to make him stay in the kitchen on a beautiful clear afternoon. He can catch up with his homework some other time.”

“I don’t know why they have all this homework anyway,” Joe said grumpily. “Only generates more work for the teachers to mark.” He pointed at the massive pile of essays he had dragged in from his car. “I’ve got to get through that lot tonight!”

Joe was a history teacher at the local secondary school, where he and Sally hoped Tom would go one day.

“Poor you!” Sally said. “Would it cheer you up to know it’s fish pie for supper?”

“Definitely!” Joe said. “Thought I could smell my favourite dish. I’ll just pop out into the garden and join Joe for a quick kick around. Make the most of the time we’ve got together, before our lives change all over again, eh?”

He grinned. “Ten minutes until we eat, you said?”

“Maybe fifteen,” Sally said. “And thanks. I’m getting too big to play football with Joe now. It’s quite an effort even going upstairs.”

Joe looked at his wife’s silhouette with pride. They’d had to wait a long time to provide Joe with a baby brother or sister, but now the big day was nearly here.

Sally had stopped work a couple of months before and was keen to get everything ready in the house for the new arrival.

“Won’t be long,” Sally’s mother kept telling her on the phone. “You’re nesting; I know the signs. You were exactly the same with Tom, kept turning out cupboards and washing down walls, convincing yourself all sorts of extra jobs in the house needed doing.

“Don’t forget to ring me at the first twinge.

“It can happen much more quickly with baby number two. I’ll drive over immediately, day or night, to be with Tom – then you and Joe can go straight to the hospital.

“You won’t have to worry about Tom – he and I will have a great time.”

Sally looked out of the window and watched Joe and Tom playing together. Her heart swelled as she thought of
how much they would all love the new baby – the longed-for addition to their family team.

What’s this?” Tom asked in disgust. “Carrots? In fish pie?”

“Different recipe from usual,” Sally said calmly. “You grate the carrot into the dish with cheese and celery, and then mix it with the fish before you cover it all with mashed potato. Yes, Tom, I suppose it is a bit unusual – but no, not yucky.”

“Even more delicious than the old recipe,” Joe said loyally, “and that’s saying something! By the way, Tom,” he continued, “talking of grated vegetables and cheese, what’s this your mother’s been telling me about another sort of grate? Alexander the GRATE?”

Sally and Joe laughed heartily at this while Tom glowered and plucked at the sleeve of his top.

“Oh, I feel a bit odd,” Sally said. “Probably indigestion. Don’t look so worried, Joe. It’s not that yet.”

“As long as you’re sure…” Joe began. “Gosh, I can hardly wait to meet the little one. Life will never be the same again!

“What do you think, eh, Tom? You’ll have a new brother or sister soon. He or she might be Prime Minister one day, or an astronaut, or a pop star…”

“Whatever he or she becomes, they’ll be your number one fan, Tom,” Sally said swiftly, observing Tom’s glittering eyes. “Come here for a cuddle, come to Mummy. Yes, on my knee, that’s better. You’re a bit tired, aren’t you?”

“Haven’t finished my homework,” Tom sniffed.

“I get all the spellings wrong at school. Mrs Brown, she doesn’t think I can do very much…”

“Hush,” Sally said. “I’m going to make more time to help you with your writing and Dad can help too, especially with History, isn’t that right, Joe?”

“Of course,” Joe said. “Sorry, Tom; we shouldn’t have teased you about Alexander the Great.”

“Mrs Brown said he changed the world – did amazing stuff like starting up new cities and conquering countries almost every week.” Tom put his head down. “I couldn’t manage that… it’s hard enough keeping up in class. And there’s something else…”

“What is it?” Sally asked gently. “You can tell us anything.”

“Yes, what is it, little man?” Joe echoed in concern.

“There’s the phone!” Sally said. “Would you mind answering it, Joe? If it’s Mum, tell her I’m fine. I’ll ring her back after I’ve had a talk with… oh, Tom, where are you off to?”

“Garden,” Tom said. “OK if I play outside for a few more minutes? Please, Mum? Before I have my shower.” And with that, he was gone.

Once Tom was finally asleep after countless stories and hugs, Sally heaved her way down to the kitchen again.

“Think I’ll turn in,” she said to Joe with a yawn. “How are you getting on with those essays?”

“Taking longer than I thought,” Joe said.

“It’s fantastic the kids want to write so much about life in a Victorian slum, but this one’s six pages long! I’m beginning to feel rather itchy reading about carpets of cockroaches in the kitchen and bedbugs biting you under the blankets. Sorry Sally. You go on up; I won’t be long, promise.”

Sally started the long trek upstairs; she felt a little breathless when she reached her bedroom and the odd twinge of indigestion returned, but she managed to settle down to sleep.

Meanwhile Tom was in the middle of a gigantic nightmare about Alexander the Great. Massive fires burned in the distance and the sun straggled through dark clouds in curly yellow beams, like long twisted pieces of grated cheese.

Tom was riding beside Alexander on the battlefield in a strange faraway country. There were men with scary weapons all around him, chanting and pretending not to be afraid.

Alexander turned to Tom, then pointed into the distance with a piece of celery.

He shouted something important about a change of battle strategy, but whatever it was, Tom couldn’t hear over the noise of the chariot wheels and shouting.

Then before he could swerve out of the way, the Persian hordes were bearing down on him and they were all holding orange swords that looked like the hated carrots from the fish pie but somehow more pointy…

“Mummy! Daddy!” Tom tried to call out, but hardly any sound came from his parched throat, only croaks. And the Persian hordes drew nearer…

“Eek!” Sally called out as she woke with a start. “That’s not indigestion. Oh, now I remember what it feels like! Better ring Mum – time for her to come round.

“Joe! Where are you? And what’s that rasping sound? Someone’s calling me…it’s all right, Tom darling, Mummy’s coming…”

Sally staggered into Tom’s room and put her arms round her son.

“Think you must be getting a cold; here, have a sip of water to ease your throat. Alexander the Great? No, he’s not here. He had what on his head? Mashed potato? Don’t worry, you’re at home, my love. No, there aren’t any horses or swords, nothing like that.”

“And I’m here too,” Joe said, rushing into Tom’s bedroom. “Fell asleep downstairs when I was marking!

“Now, listen here, Tom, Alexander lived in the fourth century BC. That’s a very long time ago – no one left from that time now. You’ve just had a nasty dream.” Joe cradled Tom in his arms and pushed his son’s thick hair back from his forehead. “My lovely boy. Our special son.”

Joe whispered to Sally, “Tom’s teacher Mrs Brown seems to have the gift of making history come alive for her pupils but maybe we need to ask her to tone it down a bit?”

Sally nodded in agreement.

“There’s still the thing,” Tom sobbed, “the thing I have to say.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Sally said as she winced. “You were going to tell us something when the phone rang and then I got distracted. What is it, Tom?”

“How will our new baby know that you’re my mummy as well? When the baby arrives, they won’t know about me and that they have to share. Everyone keeps telling me I have to share but who will tell the baby to share?”

Tom burst into noisy sobs. Sally screwed her face up while she breathed deeply, deeply, in the way the midwife had advised and Joe reached for the phone to call Sally’s mother and ask her to come over as soon as possible.

May we come in?” Sally’s mother asked, peeking through the gap in the curtains around Sally’s bed. “I’ve brought a very important visitor.”

Tom crept up to his mother’s side, still clutching his grandmother’s hand.

“Here’s your sister, Tom,” Sally said. “Come and say hello to Daisy. She really wants to meet you; you’re going to have a wonderful time playing together when she’s a bit older. Yes, of course you can touch her. Look, she’s opening her eyes.”

Daisy looked in his direction then started to screw up her tiny soft face, as if to let out a piercing shriek.

“Please, please, no,” Joe whispered. “Don’t cry, little one – we already know you have a good pair of lungs.”

Daisy snuffled and decided not to scream but instead waved her hand about, in a royal sort of way.

“Tom, she wants you to hold her hand,” Sally said.

Tom slowly touched his sister’s hand then gave her a kiss as light as a butterfly on her downy cheek. He gazed in wonder at the few strands of dark hair on her head, the intricate folds of her ears and her button nose.

“Hello Daisy,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you for ages. You can play with any of my toys whenever you want.”

Tom looked up at his parents. “Do you think Daisy knows?” he asked.

“Yes, she knows,” Joe and Sally said together.

“She knows you’re her brother,” Sally’s mum said.

“She knows you love her,” Joe said.

“And she knows I’m your mummy too,” Sally said.

Tom’s face lit up.

“Who needs to conquer the world?” he said. “I’ve got a sister!”