Sisterella

I know that people always muddle up the inside and the outside, looks with character, and go about judging books by their covers but it isn’t fair on my sisters who aren’t at all ugly or unkind.
My name’s Ella and when my sisters were tiny babies they also had a nanny called Ella, just like me. As toddlers they would fill the house with stereo shouts of “Ella! Ella!” and so people would ask,
“Do you mean Nanny Ella or Sister Ella?”
“Sisterella, Sisterella!” they would chorus.
Mum and Dad, Sunny and Chris Slipper, ran a shop with a golden crest with ‘By Royal Appointment’ over the door selling beautiful silks for making dresses. Two weeks before my twelfth birthday, they went away on a business trip.
Gran came to keep an eye me. On the fourth day of her stay she spoke to me with hot pink cheeks,
“My friend wants to take me out for the evening.” She patted her hair, “My special friend,” she winked at me, “You’ll be alright by yourself for an evening, won’t you? Make sure you don’t let on that you are home alone, will you?”
When I was halfway through my first bar of chocolate, the phone rang and a female voice asked if I was Mrs Slipper so I said yes because I didn’t know what else to say.
“I’m afraid I have bad news.” the woman continued, “This is Bremen Hospital. Your daughter-in-law was struck down by a speeding motorist. Killed outright.”
I can’t remember much until my Dad came home. And the two years after that were pretty much a blur too. Then my dad found his second wife, Eve.
Mum used to talk to me all the time, she showed me all the new designs, told me who hadn’t paid their bill, let me pick colours and taught me to distinguish twill from tussah.
Eve used a special voice when she spoke to me, as if she wasn’t sure I’d understand.
Of the two of us, I was the wicked one. I hid her keys and put the plates away in the wrong cupboard and dropped toast crumbs down her dress. And when she and Dad held hands at the dining table and announced she was pregnant, I admit it, I rolled my eyes and said “Yippee.”
“Twins!” they chorused.
“Yippee, yippee.”
Eight months later I did carry Eve’s bag as she waddled across the pavement to the taxi that was taking her to the hospital.
I rang my best friend Freya as soon as the coast was clear,
“Two babies!” I groaned, “Can you imagine the racket?”
“Ah! They will be so cute!” Freya wasn’t put off.
Later Dad rang but he didn’t sound happy,
“Your Gran’s coming over. I’m staying here a bit longer. Some tests, they’re checking something.”
When Gran arrived I could tell she’d been crying.
“The babies,” she didn’t even say hello,"there’s something wrong with them.”
“Do you mean they have disabilities?”
“Yes, but do you have to use that word?”
“That’s the right word Gran, that’s what people say nowadays.”
“In my day, we didn’t use any words at all; people didn’t talk about that sort of thing; it’s too upsetting. Whatever will Chris and Eve do? It’s dreadful!”
“But Gran there are lots and lots of children with disabilities and parents who love them. Yaz in my class is blind and she’s fine. I mean she’s not my best friend but I don’t she's a disaster just because she can’t see.”
But Gran sobbed and sobbed and sobbed so I patted and patted and patted and then made her a cup of tea.
Dad came home really late; his face was all grey and shut away. When I asked how things were he just said, “Eve’s ok. I’m going to bed. I’ve got an early start again tomorrow.”
Eve didn’t come home for a week and I hardly saw my Dad. He went out early and came back late. We ate sausages three times that week.
One morning, Eve arrived home alone and went straight to bed. I only knew she was there because she left her suitcase in the hallway. Then a taxi pulled up and there was a ring on the doorbell. The woman standing on the doorstep held a carrycot out to me.
“Annie and Janie, your little sisters.” she said.
I peered in the carrycot; they were asleep and their skin had the softest peachiest glow of peaceful baby.
Ella the nanny had arrived but still Eve didn’t get up. That afternoon Ella taught me how to change nappies (easy but whiffy), bath the twins, (tricky and slippery and strictly one at a time), give them their bottles (simple but noisy) and settle them to sleep (endless).
Ella the nanny had a home to go to but even after the front door had closed behind her, Eve didn’t appear so I put the twins to bed before my Dad got home.
Ella tried to talk to my Dad. She phoned the shop but he never could get to the phone. She arrived early but never early enough. She stayed late but he was later.
Annie and Janie slept a lot of the time. Ella told me that they would be slower to learn things than other babies but they clung onto my finger, slurped up their bottles and were lovely for snuggling.
Some days Freya came over to help me and it was she who asked, “What are you going to do when term starts? You can’t go on doing all that night feeding stuff.”
But I didn’t know what else to do and for the first week I managed fine. Then the Fresher’s Ball was announced for the following Friday.
“What are you going to wear?” Freya asked me,
“I don’t know, really no idea, I’ll think about. What about you?”
“I’ve got this killer outfit in mind,a dress, blue, down to here and up to here. red shoes, I can't walk in them but never mind. Midnight nail polish.”
That’s the short version of what she said, she talks a blue streak, says she gets it from her Mum who’s a big cheese in PR.
I was still trying on outfits in my head when I got home but when I walked into the hall and smelled that baby smell the bubble burst.
Nanny Ella was washing up in the kitchen, “You look down in the mouth.”
“Fresher’s party.” I said feeling selfish and petty.
“What about it?”
“I can’t go, can I? Who will feed the twins?”
“Of course you should go. Talk to your father. He needs to take responsibility. I know he’s upset but really… the number of times I’ve tried to talk to him…” She flushed pink, plunged her rubber gloves back into the sink and scrubbed away with a bottle brush.
I did try to talk to him. He came home late as usual and crashed about putting supper on.
“The Fresher’s Party, Dad, it’s on Friday and I want to go.”
“Of course, go then.”
I didn’t answer. He turned to look at me, “What’s the problem? Do you need a new outfit? Get one, I can manage that.”
“Not an outfit Dad, the babies. And Eve. You need to do something.”
“Of course, of course, I’ll sort something in time. Don’t worry.” His faced closed up on me.
“And you need to talk to Ella. She’s fed up of you avoiding her.”
“Don’t worry. In a week’s time everything will be alright, you’ll see.”
Nothing changed but I kept talking to Freya as if I was going. On Friday last lesson I saw her standing waiting outside our classroom so I bunked off and went home. I lay on my bed and felt the tears trickle into my ears. The doorbell rang, I ignored it hoping Ella would go but when I opened my eyes Freya was looking down at me.
“Have you talked to your Dad at all? Were you just going to leave me to go by myself? Did you really think you could avoid me by bunking off Biology? By the way, I said you were ill so you better forge a note. Well say something then.”
“I don’t know what to do!” I howled.
Freya ignored the tears and pulled me up and out of the front door. I blundered after her until she stopped outside my Dad’s shop.
“But there are customers in there.” I protested as she shoved open the door and prepared to drag me in.
“Even better, he’ll have to take notice.”
Dad had his back to us searching through a pile of shirts.
“Mr Slipper!” Freya could be really loud when she wanted.
Dad whipped around, “Who are you...Oh!”
“Yes I am Freya Godmanchester and I’m your daughter’s best friend. This is your daughter, in case you haven’t been home enough to recognise her.”
Customers stood still and goggled.
“Less of the sarcasm and keep your voice down.” Dad tried his best but Freya was not to be put off. She puffed herself up and looked him straight in the eye,
“Mr Slipper, I don’t care how busy you are or how disappointed you are about the twins or worried about your wife. This is a really important night for me and for Ella and if I have to go on my own, my dad will insist on coming to pick me up before midnight. So even if you have to cast a magic spell to get things organised, Ella will go to the Fresher’s Ball!”

(In case you were wondering about the pumpkin, it may have had something to do with the colour of my dress. The white mice were some boy’s idea of a joke. )