The Mum-Minder (3 page)

‘No, no,' said Mum. ‘Of course I haven't.'

Clive's mum went off to her chocolate shop and we were left with all the babies.

‘Don't worry, I'll give you a hand, Mum,' I said, but then my friend Rachel from up the road came round to see if I wanted to go over to her house to watch videos.

‘I can't really. I've got to help my mum because she's not feeling well,' I said.

‘I'm feeling fine,' Mum said determinedly. ‘You go round to Rachel's and have a bit of fun, Sadie.'

So I did. Rachel and I watched a Walt Disney video and then her dad
went out to do the shopping and we watched this really scary monster video instead, fast forwarding through the worst bits. Then we took turns being the Monster Blob and obliterating each other, and I was having such good fun I forgot all about Mum and the Monster Blobby Babies.

I was very late getting back. And oh dear. Clive was in his carrycot, bellowing fit to bust. Gemma had the television turned up too loud and was fiddling with the knobs to make it even louder. Vincent was crayoning all over the wall with Mum's red lipstick. Sara had chewed an entire corner off the
Dominic the Vole
book so that his little snout and one whole paw were missing. And Mum was sitting in the middle of the floor with great big tears running down her cheeks.

‘I don't think I am fine after all,' she sobbed. ‘And I phoned Nan to see if she can take over tomorrow but Grandad's really bad and she's starting to sneeze all over the place herself.'

I felt ever so ever so ever so mean. I hadn't helped Mum one little bit.

Gemma's mum finished at court early and came round to see how Mum was.

She took one look and shook her head.

‘You've definitely got flu. Go on up to bed this instant. I'll look after the kids until the other mums get here. Sadie will help me, won't you, pal?'

‘Yes, of course.'

‘Well, all right then,' Mum groaned. ‘But I'll be better tomorrow, I promise.'

‘That's nonsense,' said Gemma's mum. ‘You'll have to take to your bed and stay there.'

‘But what about the babies?' said Mum, sniffling.

‘We'll sort something out, won't we, Sadie?' said Gemma's mum.

‘You bet,' I said. ‘Us girls have got to stick together.'

YOU'LL NEVER GUESS
what! I've been a
real
policewoman today. Gemma's mum took me to work with her. And her Gemma. And our Sara. And Vincent and little Clive. All of us.

My Mum has got flu. Gemma's mum drove her to the doctor's last night. Mum's got to stay in bed today and tomorrow and the next day. So has Nan. She's got it too.

‘I can't have flu. I'm never ill,' Mum moaned. ‘I can't let you all down. I've got to look after the kids.'

‘Well, you
are
ill, whether we like it or not,' said Gemma's mum. ‘And you've never let us down before. You've always looked after our kids. So we've got to stick together, like Sadie said.'

‘That's right. And it's OK.
I'll
look after the babies,' I said. I was feeling bad about leaving Mum to cope on her own and I was desperate to make up for it.

‘It's sweet of you to offer, Sadie, but you're only a kid yourself, love,' said Gemma's mum.

I got a bit annoyed at that. I'm not a kid, I'm nearly nine for goodness sake, and Mum says I'm old for my age. I look after Sara enough times. If you can cope with our Sara then other babies are a doddle. Gemma's quite a sensible little kid at times, and Vincent's OK if you keep an eye on him – well, two eyes plus one in the back of your head – and baby Clive doesn't yell
all
the time.

But Gemma's mum and Vincent's mum and Clive's mum and even
my
mum wouldn't listen to me. They said I couldn't cope.

‘We're the ones who are going to have to cope,' said Gemma's mum.

‘But how?' said Vincent's mum. ‘I can't leave Vincent with a neighbour because they go out to work too.'

‘My mother-in-law always said she'd look after any babies if I had to go back to work, but the first time she looked after Clive he cried all the time and she said Never Again,' said Clive's mum. ‘She just couldn't manage.'

‘We're going to have to manage,'
said Gemma's mum. ‘It's only for this week. Can't anyone take three days off work? I would, but I've used up all my leave.'

Vincent's mum and Clive's mum couldn't take time off either.

‘Then just this once we'll have to take the kids to work with us,' said Gemma's mum.

‘How on earth could I have the babies in my office?' said Vincent's mum.

‘You can't have kids cooped up behind the chocolate counter all day,' said Clive's mum.

‘I'll look after them as usual,' my mum croaked. ‘I can go to bed when they have their naps and —'

‘Nonsense,' said Gemma's mum. ‘Now listen. Tomorrow
I'll
have the kids. They can come to the police station with me. Then Thursday they can go uptown to your office and Friday go to the shop. I know it's going to be difficult but we'll just have to give it a whirl.'

I still feel like I'm whirling. And it's great great great!

I got up ever so early and gave Sara a baby bottle to keep her quiet while I got washed and dressed, and then I made Mum a cup of tea and some toast for her breakfast. Then I heated up some tomato soup at the same time and poured it into a vacuum flask.

‘That's your lunch, Mum,' I explained, when I'd woken her and propped a couple of pillows behind her. ‘And look, I've brought some apples and biscuits up, and the kettle and the coffee and Sara's Ribena because I think you need the vitamin C more than she does.'

‘You're a real pal, Sadie,' Mum mumbled. ‘So where are you going today then? Round to Rachel's?'

‘You must be joking! I'll have to go to the police station with Gemma's mum. She'll never cope with the babies on her own.'

You can say that again.

She looked a bit fussed when she came to pick us up.

‘Me and my big mouth,' she said. ‘I haven't a clue what my boss is going to say. I don't
think
there's anything in Police Orders about not bringing your children and all their little friends to work with you, but I kind of get the feeling it's going to be frowned on.'

Gemma's mum's Police Inspector boss did frown when he saw all of us. His eyebrows practically knitted together.

‘What on earth are you playing at, WPC Parsons?' he said.

‘Oh, Sir,' said Gemma's mum, and she started gabbling this long, involved, apologetic explanation,
while Gemma scuffed her shoes and Vincent picked his nose and Sara struggled in my arms and Clive cried in his carrycot.

‘This is ridiculous,' said the Inspector. ‘You're a policewoman, not Mary Blooming Poppins. I can't have my police station turned into a nursery, not even for one day. You must take them all home with you right this minute.'

Sara had stopped struggling. She was staring up at the Inspector. Then she gave him a big sunny smile.

‘Dad-Dad!' she announced delightedly.

The Inspector looked shocked.

‘I'm not your Dad-Dad,' he said.

‘Dad-Dad!'
Sara insisted, and held out her chubby arms to him.

It's not her fault. We don't often see our dad. Sara's only little and she makes mistakes.

The Inspector was big and he looked as if he'd never made a mistake in his life – but he made one
right that minute. His arms reached out of their own accord. Sara snuggled up to him happily.

‘Dad-Dad,' she announced smugly, patting his cheek.

He still tried to frown, but he couldn't stop his mouth going all smiley.

‘Is this your little girl, WPC Parsons?' he asked.

‘No, Sir. This one's mine. Gemma. Say hello to the Inspector, Gemma,' said Gemma's mum.

Gemma wasn't going to let Sara get all the attention. She smiled determinedly at the Inspector, tossing her curls.