Read Online Odd Socks by Ilsa Evans - Free Book Online

called.’
    â€˜Oh, Mum,’ says Bronte, rolling her eyes, ‘an awful lot has changed since you had me. Like, everything’s been updated.’
    â€˜She’s right, honey,’ agrees Mum, with a sage nod in Bronte’s direction. ‘I mean, we didn’t have any of those when I was having you two. Each generation has it easier.’
    â€˜Humph,’ says Eeyore glumly.
    â€˜Well, as I was saying, I thought they were just those Hexton Bricks things,’ continues Bronte, with a challenging glance in my direction, ‘but by the time I got home – I mean your place, Mum – I was starting to get really worried. So I let myself in and tried Nick again but still couldn’t get through. Then I was going to go up and get you but they started getting really bad so I thought I’d sit on the couch and just yell out to you, you know. So I go, like, ‘Mum, Mum !’ And you didn’t come but then they were so bad I lay down on the floor. Because I thought it’d make them better, but they just got worse, and then I couldn’t get up again. And, like, I didn’t think you’d ever come.’
    â€˜But I did,’ I finish smugly, ‘and saved the day.’
    â€˜Yeah, eventually,’ says Bronte with an accusing glance at me, ‘but it sure took you ages.’
    â€˜Well, excuse me for sleeping,’ I comment sarcastically.
    â€˜Oh, it’s not your fault, honey,’ chimes in Mum, ‘so don’t go feeling responsible. All’s well that ends well.’
    â€˜And wait till you see her!’ Bronte’s face lights up and she forgets all about my dereliction of duty. ‘You just wait! Even you, Mum, you’re going to love her!’
    Right on cue, a Perspex cradle wedged in a metal trolley is wheeled squeakily through the doorway. It’s being pushed by the proud father, looking tall, blonde and masculine as usual. Nick and Bronte make an incredibly well-suited couple in a visual sense, like a romantic version of Viking heroes straight from the folds of Norway – or whatever it is that Norway has.
    â€˜Mil, great to see you!’ says Nick cheerfully, parking the trolley haphazardly by the bed. ‘I hear you were something of a lifesaver this morning!’
    â€˜You could say so, I suppose,’ I say humbly, gratified that at last someone seems to think so. ‘But I’m sure Bronte would have managed without me.’
    â€˜Nonsense!’ Nick bends over to pick up the silent, bunny-rugged occupant of the trolley and pass it carefully over to Bronte’s eager arms. ‘You were great, admit it.’
    â€˜He’s right. You were, you know, Mum.’ Bronte drops a kiss into the folds of the bunny-rug. ‘It might have taken you ages but, like, I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’
    â€˜Why, thank you, Bronte,’ I reply, feeling rather touched. ‘I’m just glad I was there.’
    â€˜Let me see . . .’ Mum edges up the bed closer to Bronte and turns back a corner of the bunny-rug. ‘Oh, oh, oh ! Aren’t you simply precious! Hello, you little darling!’
    â€˜Do you want to see, Mum?’ Bronte tilts the bundle slightly so I can glimpse the baby’s face. ‘Here you are, sweetie, here’s your grandmother.’
    â€˜Yech,’ I comment shortly as I lean over for a closer look.
    â€˜Charming!’ says Bronte, pulling the baby back and giving me a hurt look.
    â€˜Not the baby ,’ I protest, ‘the grandmother bit – I’m not sure I’m ready.’
    â€˜Well, you ain’t got too much choice,’ Nick says with a smile as he sits down on the bed and puts his arm around Bronte. ‘So what’s it to be? Gran, Nan, Grandma, or do you want to go all modern and stick with Terry?’
    â€˜I’ve no idea.’ I roll my eyes and grimace. ‘But I think I’ve got a bit of time