Red face. That was my little sis fraping me. Soz.
Kaz: ha ha
Andy: What you don’t think I’m hot?
Mel: Andy BBM ME NOW
Mel: Thanks for all the birthday wishes everyone! xxx
Teenage Kicks
My sixteenth birthday. What a let-down.
It’s not like I thought it would be at all. Mum and Dad kind of forgot. Well, they got me a present – a laptop since you ask – which would be great but they want me to use it for studying. BORING. And Dad’s put some crappy filter on it which means I can’t use the internet after a certain time. GREAT.
But today, they were in such a hurry to go to work, they forgot to say happy birthday.
And they won’t let me have a party in case I trash the place. It wasn’t my fault last year that the Chav Queen found out on FB and came with loads of her mates and got pissed and threw up in the flowerbed.
I did have loads of birthday wishes on BBM and Facebook which was cool. But Best Mate was the only one who remembered to buy me a present.
And as for The Boy. I’d kind of hoped for a bit more. He sent me a text saying, Happy Birthday to my legal babe, then VILE Little Sis put something really embarrassing on my BBM status and we had a chat, but that was it.
Why does he keep doing this to me? Making me feel all churned up and stuff. Is it always going to be like this?
I was thinking about sleeping with him. I kind of hoped we might do it on my 16th. But he hasn’t contacted me. Mum always said boys are after one thing. I thought the Boy was different. Maybe I was wrong.
Marianne was whizzing round the house gathering up toys and discarded toddler cups, while the twins had a late morning nap. It wasn’t going to be long before they dropped it altogether, so she was making the most of the time while she could. It always amazed her how much chaos two small children could create in a matter of seconds, and the place would be untidy again as soon as they were up, but she did like to have the occasional point in the day when the lounge was pristine.
Marianne plumped up the faded cushions on the sofa, and moved it out so she could start hoovering. Although she and Gabe had brightened the lounge with a cheerful makeover when she’d moved in, they’d made a deliberate choice not to get a new sofa or carpet when they found out about the twins. Which was just as well, as Marianne had lost count of the number of times they’d been sick and spilt drinks over both.
As she moved the sofa back into position, Marianne glanced once more at the envelope on the mantelpiece, practically burning a hole in it. Addressed to the parents of Steven North, with a postmark from Middleminster, there was no mistaking the letter that could change their lives forever. Marianne was dying to open it, but she and Gabe had promised Steven they would let him do it. She’d been staring at it on and off all morning and the suspense was killing her.
Marianne yawned. Gabe had gone out early for a sheep which was in labour, and although she’d tried to get back to sleep, Harry and Daisy had had other ideas. The biggest downside to having them, she decided, was lack of sleep. Marianne had forgotten what it felt like to be fully rested. Although most of the time the twins slept through the night now, they both seemed to think getting Mummy up at around five-thirty a.m. was essential. Marianne tried to compensate by going to bed earlier, but she found by the time she’d cleared up, sorted out dinner for her and Gabriel, and had a short relaxing half hour in front of the telly, it always seemed to be midnight, and either she or Gabe had fallen asleep on the sofa. Just as well they’d decided to stop at the twins, as they had no chance of ever conceiving again.
She heard the first burbling sounds coming from upstairs which indicated that the twins were waking up. She stopped to listen for a moment as Harry gurgled in his cot, and Daisy responded with a giggle. The sounds never failed to brighten her day. Exhausted and frazzled she might be, but the simple chuckling she heard all day from the twins made her exhaustion more than worthwhile.
Marianne went upstairs to their room to find Harry sitting up, playing with the musical toy attached to his cot, while Daisy was wriggling around in hers, laughing. They’d taken a loan out to convert the attic into a bedroom for Steven, so that later on the twins could have a separate room each, while still enabling them to have a spare room. The nursery was cheerful and fun, with stencils of animals she and Gabe had painted on the wall when she was in the middle of her pregnancy. It had been such a lovely time, the three of them anticipating the birth of the twins. Marianne sighed a little. She felt life had become a bit more complicated since then.
‘Come on you two, lunchtime,’ she said. Harry was already trying to climb out of the cot, so she picked him up first and then changed his nappy, by which time Daisy was clamouring to get out. There was certainly never a dull moment with twins.
She took Harry downstairs first, as he was likely to get more grumpy about being left behind, and leaving him in the playpen, went to get Daisy. She’d just settled them down with a few toys when Gabriel came in from the fields, where he’d been working with Dan, for an early lunch.
‘Letter’s here then,’ he said, immediately spotting it on the mantelpiece.
‘Yup,’ said Marianne.
‘Aren’t you just the tiniest bit curious?’ said Gabriel.
‘Of course I am,’ said Marianne, as she helped Daisy rebuild a tower that Harry had knocked down.
‘Do you think Steven would mind if …?’
‘Don’t even think about it,’ said Marianne. ‘Steven will kill you if you open it before him.’
‘You’re right,’ said Gabriel, ‘but I’m dying to know. Aren’t you?’
‘Of course I am,’ said Marianne. ‘It’s been driving me nuts all morning. Come on, help me get the twins ready for lunch.’
‘We could always steam it open,’ said Gabe, as he lifted Daisy into her highchair.
‘We so couldn’t,’ said Marianne, strapping Harry into his.
‘Could.’
‘Could doesn’t mean we should,’ said Marianne firmly, going to the fridge to get the toddler-friendly chicken stew she’d made the previous day.
‘He’ll never know,’ said Gabe.
‘He might.’
‘Oh go on,’ said Gabe, helping her fill the bowls with stew, ‘you know you’re as desperate to know as I am.’
Which
