gearing myself up for the day, I swung my legs out of bed and stood uncertainly, dizzy with lack of sleep. Then I went down into the kitchen to find not Maddie and Ellie but Jean McKenzie, scrubbing the dishes and looking disapproving.
“Are the bairns not up yet?” she said as I came into the room, rubbing my eyes and longing for a coffee. I shook my head.
“No, we had a . . .” What should I say? Suddenly I couldn’t bring myself to go into the whole story. “A bit of a disturbed night,” I finished at last. “I thought I’d let them sleep in.”
“Well that’s all very well on a weekend, but it’s seven twenty-five and they need to be washed, dressed, and in that car by eight fifteen.”
Eight fifteen? I did a mental double take, and then realized. Fuck.
“Oh God, it’s Monday.”
“Aye, and you’ll need to be getting a move on if you’re to make it in time.”
* * *
“I’m not going.” Maddie was lying facedown on her bed, with her hands over her ears. I began to feel desperate. It wasn’t so much what I would tell Sandra if I couldn’t get the girls to school, but the fact that I needed this break. I had had barely three hours’ sleep last night. I could cope with a fractious baby. I couldn’t cope with two primary school age–children as well, let alone one as stroppy and recalcitrant as Maddie.
“You’re going, and that’s that.”
“I’m not, and you can’t make me.”
What could I say to that? It was true after all.
“If you get dressed now there’ll still be time for Coco Pops.”
It had come to that then. Basically bribing her with Sandra’s list of forbidden foods at every single obstacle. But it had worked with Ellie, who was, I assumed, downstairs now, more or less dressed (though not washed or brushed) and eating cereal with Jean.
“I don’t want Coco Pops. I don’t like Coco Pops. They’re for babies.”
“Well, that seems about right, given you’re behaving like a baby!” I snapped, and then regretted it when I heard her laugh.
Don’t react, I thought. Don’t give her that hold over you. You have to stay calm, or she’ll know that she’s got the power to get to you.
I thought about counting to ten, then I remembered the painful “one and a half” of a couple of nights before, and hastily revised my plans.
“Maddie, I’m getting very bored here. Unless you want me to take you to school in your nightie, then I suggest you get your uniform on.”
She said nothing, and at last I sighed.
“Okay, well, if you want to behave like a baby, I’ll have to treat you like one, and get you dressed the way I do with Petra.”
I picked up the clothes and advanced slowly towards the bed, hoping that a bit of warning might induce her to scramble up and get her clothes on, but she just lay there, making herself as limp and heavy as she possibly could so that my back screamed in protest as I began manhandling her into her clothes. She was as floppy as a rag doll, but a hundred times as heavy, and I was breathing hard when at last I stepped back. Her skirt was askew, and her hair was rumpled from where I had dragged the T-shirt over her head, but she was more or less dressed within the meaning of the act.
Finally, figuring that I might as well take advantage of her passivity, I pulled a sock on each foot and then jammed her school shoes on.
“There,” I said, trying to keep the triumph out of my voice. “You’re dressed. Well done, Maddie. Now, I’ll be downstairs eating Coco Pops with Ellie if you want to join us. Otherwise I’ll see you in the car in fifteen minutes.
“I haven’t done my teeth,” she said woodenly, nothing moving apart from her mouth. I gave a laugh.
“I don’t give a”—I stopped myself just in time, and then rephrased—“a monkey’s. But if you’re bothered . . .”
I went through to the bathroom in the hallway and put some toothpaste on the tip of the brush, intending to leave it up to her whether she brushed her teeth, but when I came back, holding the brush, she was sitting up on her bed.
“Will you brush for me?” she said, her voice almost normal after the sulky malice of a few minutes ago. I frowned. Wasn’t eight a bit old to be