Big brother
Tom’s got school woes, carrot fears and, to make matters worse, a sibling on the way
‘Mum! Check my spellings? Mrs Brown said I have to try harder.” Tom stood on one leg and practised a few swishy football kicks while his mum, Sally, read his homework. “Alexander the Grate never lost a battle. He was fierce and mean…” Sally bit her lip. “Tom, Alexander wasn’t anything to do with fireplaces.”
“What?”
“The grate of a fireplace? Alexander’s
‘great’ is spelt differently. Let’s correct this – and a few other things.”
But Tom had already run into the garden
– he was leaping and kicking, preparing for his next football match.
“Thought homework could wait,” Sally said to her husband Joe later, when he returned from teaching at the local school. “Seemed unfair to keep him inside on such a beautiful afternoon.”
“Don’t know why they have all this homework, anyway,” Joe grimaced as he pointed at his massive pile of essays. “Got to get through that lot tonight!”
“Never mind,” Sally said. “Fish pie for supper – 10 minutes.”
Joe grinned. “I’ll pop outside and join
Tom for a quick kickaround.”
Sally lumbered across the kitchen and
Joe gazed at her silhouette with pride.
They’d had to wait a long time to provide
Tom with a sibling.
“You’re nesting,” Sally’s mother had pointed out that morning. “I recognise the signs. Turning out cupboards and washing down walls. Ring me at the first twinge – I’ll drive straight over to look after Tom.”
Sally looked out of the window and watched Joe and Tom playing football together. Her heart swelled.
How they would all love the new baby, the longed-for addition to their family team.
“Carrots?” Tom asked, stabbing with his fork. “In fish pie?”
“Different recipe from usual,” Sally said. “Jamie Oliver. You grate carrot, celery and cheese, then mix with fish and a few extras before topping with mashed potato.”
“Delicious!” Joe said. “By the way,
Tom, talking of grated things, what’s this
Mum’s been telling me about Alexander the Grate?”
Sally and Joe laughed heartily while Tom plucked at his sleeve.
“Feel a bit odd,” Sally said. “Probably indigestion. Don’t look so worried, Joe – not that yet.”
“If you’re sure…” Joe began. “Wow!
Can hardly wait to meet the little one. Life will never be the same again! You’ll have a new brother or sister soon, Tom. They might be Prime Minister one day, or an astronaut, or a pop star…”
“And your number one fan, Tom,”
Sally said swiftly, noticing her son’s glittering eyes. “Come here for a cuddle. Anything wrong?”
“Haven’t finished my homework,” Tom sniffed. “Mrs Brown won’t be pleased.”
“We’ve got time to help you with it,”
Sally said.
Joe nodded.
“And sorry, Tom – shouldn’t have laughed about the grate.”
“Mrs Brown said Alexander the Great changed the world. He built new cities and conquered countries almost every week.”
Tom sucked in his cheeks. “Don’t think I could do stuff like that – hard enough keeping up in class. And there’s something else…”
“What is it?” Sally asked.
“You can ask us anything,” Joe said. “Phone!” Sally said. “Would you mind,
Joe? If it’s Mum, tell her I’m fine. I’ll ring back after we’ve helped Tom with… oh, where are you going?”
“Garden,” Tom said. “Want to play outside.” Once Tom was asleep after three stories and plenty of hugs, Sally heaved her way down to the kitchen.
“Think I’ll turn in,” she said to Joe with a yawn. “How’s the marking going?”
“Taking ages! And I’m beginning to feel itchy reading about carpets of cockroaches and beds full of bugs in the Victorian slums. You go on up – won’t be long, I promise.”
Sally felt breathless by the time she reached her bedroom and the twinge of
‘What will happen to me once the baby’s born?’
indigestion returned, but she managed to settle down to sleep.
Later that night, Tom was trapped in 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 rode beside Alexander on the battlefield in a strange faraway country. There were men with scary weapons all around, chanting and pretending not to be afraid.
Alexander turned to Tom, then pointed into the distance with a piece of celery and yelled something vital about a change of battle strategy, but whatever it was, Tom couldn’t hear over the noise of the chariot wheels and shouting.
Before he could swerve out of the way, the Persian hordes bore down on him. They were all holding orange swords that looked like the hated carrots from the fish pie but more pointy, as if they’d been sharpened.
“Mum! Dad!” Tom croaked.
“It’s all right Tom, Mummy’s here. Did you say Alexander the Great had mashed potato on his head? No, there aren’t any horses or swords in your room,” said Sally, before clutching her back. “Eek! Time to ring my mother and ask her to come over. Joe! Where are you?”
“Would you believe it?”
Joe said, rushing into Tom’s bedroom. “I fell asleep downstairs marking! Now, listen Tom, Alexander the Great lived in the fourth century BC – no one left from that time now.
Just a bad dream.”
Joe cradled Tom, pushing his son’s thick hair back from his forehead.
“There’s still the thing,”
Tom whispered, “the thing I want to know.”
“That’s right,” Sally said, wincing.
“What were you going to ask us when the phone rang?”
“What will happen to me once the baby’s born? I know I have to learn to share – everyone keeps telling me – but how will the baby know you’re my parents, too?”
Tom burst into noisy sobs, Sally breathed deeply, and Joe reached for the phone.
Later, Sally’s mother peeked through the gap in the curtains around the hospital bed. “May we come in?” she said. “I’ve brought a very important visitor.”
Tom crept in and stood by his mother’s side. “Meet Daisy – your new little sister,”
Sally said.
Daisy looked in Tom’s direction then opened her mouth as if to let out a piercing shriek. “Please, no,” Joe murmured.
Daisy closed her mouth, snuffled and waved. Tom gave the baby a kiss on her downy cheek, as light as the brush from a butterfly’s wing.
“Hello!” he said. “Been waiting for you for ages. You can play with my toys whenever you want.” Tom looked up. “I think she understands you’re my parents as well.” “Definitely,” Sally said.
“Absolutely,” Joe agreed.
“No doubt whatsoever,” Sally’s mum added as she ruffled her grandson’s hair.
Tom’s face lit up. “Yes!” he shouted, raising his fist above his head in triumph, looking for all the world as if he had founded an empire.
“I’ve got a sister!”