‘I guess so. But she’s my mum. I should be looking after her. Alison has completely taken over, she’s even sleeping in my room.’
Surprise flickers across his face. ‘Youroldroom. You haven’t lived at home for years, Liz. You can’t expect Alison to sleep on the sofa when there’s an empty room she can use.’
I feel my cheeks flush. I know I’m being unreasonable but I can’t help it.
‘It just feels wrong. And she’s calling mum “Mum”. As if she’shermother.’
‘It’s probably out of respect, she doesn’t want to call her Judith, the older generation don’t like that, so she’s gone for “Mum”.’
Nick is always calm and reasonable but right now he’s annoying me.
‘I don’t call George “Dad”.’
Nick pulls me into him, wrapping his arms around my waist. ‘I can completely understand how you’re feeling, Liz. Since your dad died it’s been only you and your mum. Even though she’s with George now, ever since the mini stroke you’ve run yourself ragged trying to look after her, and work and look after the kids. But this is your chance to take a break. Now Alison is here you can step back a bit. I know it’s hard for you, you’re an only child so you’re not used to sharing your mum. But look on it as help rather than…’ He pauses.
‘Rather than what?’ I snap. He’d better not be trying to suggest that I’m jealous of Alison, that this is some kind of competition. That is not what this is about. I pull myself angrily away from him and go over to the fridge to get some milkshake for the kids. I take out the bottle and turn back to Nick, who is leaning against the worktop now, hands in his pockets, head to one side.
‘Rather than feeling guilty that you’re not the one doing the caring,’ he says cautiously. ‘Give yourself a break.’
I consider his words as I take two plastic beakers out of the cupboard and pour the chocolate milkshake into them.
He’s right that as an only child I’ve always felt responsible for Mum, especially after Dad died. Maybe I should embrace the fact that Alison is here to help instead of assuming that she’sdeliberately pushing me out. As Nick said, she’s a nurse, and she’s just being professional and looking after ‘a patient’. And yes, she’s obviously concerned about the effect it will all have on George, her father.
‘I’m sure that Alison doesn’t mean to be so bossy but nurses have this efficient, assertive attitude, don’t they? They’re used to dealing with anxious families,’ he adds.
‘I guess…’ I say slowly. Am I blowing this all up because it’s my fault that Alison’s mum died? Maybe the guilt is making me think that Alison’s trying to push me out and take my mum away from me, as payback. But she doesn’t know what I did, does she? She wasn’t watching. And she doesn’t even recognise me. If she did, she would have said something as soon as she saw me.
‘Mum looks so tired and fragile though. And she has this big black boot on her ankle.’ I swallow. ‘She wants to see the kids. She asked me to take them over, but Alison said not to bring them yet.’
‘Only because your mum needs to rest up for a few days, and the kids, well they can be a bit lively, Liz. Also, do you want them to see their nan looking so weak? It might upset them.’
Right again. Nick’s calm, rational personality is one of the things I love about him. I can lean on him, turn to him for support when my anxiety spirals out of control.
It’s also one of the things that drives me nuts about him.
We both turn as we hear a yell from upstairs. Isaac and Grace are arguing. Again.
‘I’ll go,’ I’m already hurrying towards the door.
‘I’ll finish the dinner then,’ he says.
I head up the stairs into Isaac’s bedroom where the loud voices are coming from. I walk in to find Lego all over the floor, Isaac red in the face and Grace sitting on the floor, tears streaming down her face.
‘She’s ruined it. I spent ages building Superman and she’s knocked it all down,’ Isaac shouts. ‘She spoils everything!’
‘Isaac pushed me,’ Grace sobs.
I pick her up. ‘You have to remember that she’s only little, Isaac. She didn’t realise that it would all topple over.’ Having Isaac helps me forgive myself for what I did. I was only seven then, as he is now. You don’t realise what you’re doing at that age. You don’t understand the danger.
‘I’m only little too!’ Isaac shouts and he runs out of the room.
I cuddle Grace and look around at the Lego bricks scattered on the floor. Poor Isaac, he’d been so happy to get the Superman Lego for his birthday and had worked hard to build it up. I realise how annoying it must be for Grace to come in and ruin it, but she didn’t mean it. He’s right though, he’s only seven. He’s only little too. He was only two when Grace came along and had to grow up quick. Did he resent that, I wonder?
Sometimes when I was younger I longed for a sibling to play with, but there were bonuses too. I got all my parents’ attention, I never had to share, I could build a jigsaw or a Lego model knowing that no one would come in and destroy it.
Nick is right. The kids need me, I should be glad that Alison is going to look after Mum. I’ve got my hands full here. I should embrace the fact that I now have a stepsister to share the burden with.
If only that stepsister wasn’t Alison.
