language.
It was a bit like doing cryptic crosswords – she had got the hang of me now. While the rest of the family did not notice, she had learnt to analyse every action. She’d come to recognise so many of my secret rituals. Some of my clothes, odd socks, maybe my school tie, had to be left at certain spots around the house. She could bet her bottom dollar that there would be a hanky behind the sofa right now.
Sadie and Dad were always so happy to dominate the telly anyhow so they had not noticed that I refused to touch the remote in case it was covered in germs.
She was still furious with me. She knew it wasn’t medically correct to be angry with me but I was driving her mad. This nonsense had to be broken. She saw her chance.
‘Boys,’ she faced Oli and Bri. ‘I expect you are bored listening to all us adults chatting. Josh will put the telly on for you and we’ll gather in the kitchen while the lunch cooks.’
She passed the remote directly to me, forcing it into my palm. As if in slow motion the whole room turned to stare as an animal-like screech squealed from me. The remote clattered to the floor as I wiped my hands up and down my trousers. I ran out. Mum had been convinced my social graces would have overridden my fear.
Silence. Everybody was desperately thinking of a suitable follow-on, something to dilute the situation. Sadie was expert at diverting attention away from this sideshow of a cousin.
‘Toothache. Been moaning about it all morning. Comes in waves. Must have got a massive jolt just then. Agony. I’ll go get him some Nurofen.’
Nobody was fooled but all were thankful that they could pretend normality again.
On hold, to go to the kitchen or to stay in the lounge – that was the question. Mum was livid. I had ruined the visit already.
Sadie was becoming increasingly cunning, manipulating Mum and Dad, making herself so at home in our house. Mum was sick of treading on eggshells, accommodating my latest fetish. She felt like a robot, awaiting her next set of instructions. Just who was her master, though? Should she run after me, play the perfect hostess back in the lounge or just do what she felt like doing – buggering off and leaving the lot of us to it?
She found herself straightening her apron, checking the beef and then going into the lounge as if everything was perfectly normal.
She picked up the empty canapé tray.
‘Mark, dear, please could you come through and carve the meat? Everything will be served up in about five minutes. Sadie, please take your parents’ bags up to their rooms.’
‘Where’s Josh?’ she hurriedly whispered, as Sadie obediently went to her task.
Caroline and Simon exchanged big grins. They thought Della and Mark were working miracles. If only they could all see through Sadie like I could.
‘Dunno, gave him the Nurofen and not seen him since.’
‘You didn’t give him the box, did you?’ she shrieked in panic.
‘Auntie,’ Sadie again used a tone to suggest she was flapping.
‘He’s not a baby, Aunt. Yes, he took the box.’
Mum’s stomach lurched. The whole box! Had Sadie no sense of responsibility? What was she thinking? I didn’t even have toothache! Why would I want/need a box of Nurofen?
The mobile in her pocket notified the arrival of a text. Within a flash she was reading her message, one word ‘traitor’. The sender, me!
It was her turn now. She slammed the tray down. It skimmed across the wooden floor, hitting the bottom stair where it shattered. Simon popped his head out of the lounge.
‘Everything okay?’ he beamed.
‘Sadie will explain. She’s good at that.’ She took the stairs, two at a time, hurling herself down on their bed, after first bolting the door.
‘Della, Della!’ Mark’s voice boomed up the stairs.
‘Where’s the electric knife?’
Her phone pinged one more time, monosyllabic again.
‘Bye.’
6.
“What a start to the New Year! A police search, an overdosed teenager in intensive
It was a bit like doing cryptic crosswords – she had got the hang of me now. While the rest of the family did not notice, she had learnt to analyse every action. She’d come to recognise so many of my secret rituals. Some of my clothes, odd socks, maybe my school tie, had to be left at certain spots around the house. She could bet her bottom dollar that there would be a hanky behind the sofa right now.
Sadie and Dad were always so happy to dominate the telly anyhow so they had not noticed that I refused to touch the remote in case it was covered in germs.
She was still furious with me. She knew it wasn’t medically correct to be angry with me but I was driving her mad. This nonsense had to be broken. She saw her chance.
‘Boys,’ she faced Oli and Bri. ‘I expect you are bored listening to all us adults chatting. Josh will put the telly on for you and we’ll gather in the kitchen while the lunch cooks.’
She passed the remote directly to me, forcing it into my palm. As if in slow motion the whole room turned to stare as an animal-like screech squealed from me. The remote clattered to the floor as I wiped my hands up and down my trousers. I ran out. Mum had been convinced my social graces would have overridden my fear.
Silence. Everybody was desperately thinking of a suitable follow-on, something to dilute the situation. Sadie was expert at diverting attention away from this sideshow of a cousin.
‘Toothache. Been moaning about it all morning. Comes in waves. Must have got a massive jolt just then. Agony. I’ll go get him some Nurofen.’
Nobody was fooled but all were thankful that they could pretend normality again.
On hold, to go to the kitchen or to stay in the lounge – that was the question. Mum was livid. I had ruined the visit already.
Sadie was becoming increasingly cunning, manipulating Mum and Dad, making herself so at home in our house. Mum was sick of treading on eggshells, accommodating my latest fetish. She felt like a robot, awaiting her next set of instructions. Just who was her master, though? Should she run after me, play the perfect hostess back in the lounge or just do what she felt like doing – buggering off and leaving the lot of us to it?
She found herself straightening her apron, checking the beef and then going into the lounge as if everything was perfectly normal.
She picked up the empty canapé tray.
‘Mark, dear, please could you come through and carve the meat? Everything will be served up in about five minutes. Sadie, please take your parents’ bags up to their rooms.’
‘Where’s Josh?’ she hurriedly whispered, as Sadie obediently went to her task.
Caroline and Simon exchanged big grins. They thought Della and Mark were working miracles. If only they could all see through Sadie like I could.
‘Dunno, gave him the Nurofen and not seen him since.’
‘You didn’t give him the box, did you?’ she shrieked in panic.
‘Auntie,’ Sadie again used a tone to suggest she was flapping.
‘He’s not a baby, Aunt. Yes, he took the box.’
Mum’s stomach lurched. The whole box! Had Sadie no sense of responsibility? What was she thinking? I didn’t even have toothache! Why would I want/need a box of Nurofen?
The mobile in her pocket notified the arrival of a text. Within a flash she was reading her message, one word ‘traitor’. The sender, me!
It was her turn now. She slammed the tray down. It skimmed across the wooden floor, hitting the bottom stair where it shattered. Simon popped his head out of the lounge.
‘Everything okay?’ he beamed.
‘Sadie will explain. She’s good at that.’ She took the stairs, two at a time, hurling herself down on their bed, after first bolting the door.
‘Della, Della!’ Mark’s voice boomed up the stairs.
‘Where’s the electric knife?’
Her phone pinged one more time, monosyllabic again.
‘Bye.’
6.
“What a start to the New Year! A police search, an overdosed teenager in intensive
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