Starting Over by Cathy Hopkins

9
Moving On

    I woke up late on Sunday. It was ten o’clock and I’d slept right through. The aroma of bacon was wafting through the house.
Yum,
I thought as I got dressed and dashed down the stairs.
    Mum and Aunt Sarah were in the kitchen, both fully dressed, making brunch with Radio Four on in the background. You’d never guess that they were sisters as they are so unalike. Aunt Sarah is small and dark and Mum is tall and willowy. Even their personalities are total opposites. Aunt Sarah, the do-er, was efficient and precise in her movements. Mum, the dreamer, moved gracefully around the work units, like a dancer.
    I pulled up a chair and explained the school show to them as they prepared food. ‘So what do you think? I asked when I’d finished.
    â€˜Oh. Hmm. Let me get back to you. I’d need a while to thinkit over,’ said Aunt Sarah as she began cracking eggs into a bowl.
    â€˜Cool,’ I said. I knew she’d come up with something good, and as far as I was concerned, my scenery theme problems were history. Barry and Andrea would be well impressed when I took in a ton of brilliant ideas over the next few weeks.
    After a huge breakfast, I went up to do more homework. Schoolwork always makes me hungry so after a few hours, I crept back down to the kitchen to make a sandwich. It seemed like a feast had appeared whilst I’d been upstairs studying. Salads. Quiches. Chicken. Ham. Lemon tart. Apple pie. ‘Is it someone’s birthday and I’ve forgotten?’ I asked Mum, who was busy chopping tomatoes for a salad. ‘What’s with all the nosh?’
    Mum grinned. ‘Surprise guest.’
    â€˜Who?’
    â€˜You’ll see,’ she said.
    For a mad moment, I imagined that someone had invited Joe. Maybe Aunt Sarah had. She knew his mum well as they worked together. My heart began to beat fast and I wondered whether to dash back upstairs and apply lip-gloss. However there wasn’t time as I heard a commotion in the hall and Mum dashed out to greet whoever it was. Seconds later, I heard a familiar voice. ‘And where’s my Cinnamon Girl?’
    â€˜Dad!’ I raced out to the hall to find Dad being embraced by Mum and Dylan. He looked wonderful. Tall, handsome and tanned from being in Europe. He beckoned me over with his right arm and we stood in a rugby-scrum hug while Ethan came in behind us with Dad’s cases.
    â€˜But I thought you had a week or so to go,’ I said after he’d almost squeezed the breath out of me.
    â€˜I did, but the gods have smiled on me,’ he beamed. ‘The man I was replacing made an early recovery and I got offered a position with an orchestra over here. An orchestra who is staying here for the season, I might add and . . . hmmm ... Is that bacon I smell? Lead the way. I’m starving!’
    We trooped after him like a bunch of groupies and watched him tuck into the food with the enthusiasm with which he did everything. We were soon joined by Jessica and the twins, and then Lewis, who had made an effort and rolled out of bed for once. Even Kate put in an appearance, albeit a bleary-eyed one. Once again, the kitchen was like a busy café with people talking over each other, catching up, Dad eager to hear everyone’s news and tell his own.
These times with all the family together are my best days,
I thought as I watched everyone jabbering away happily. As the frenzy of noise escalated and Dad went out to say hi to the piano in the front room - cue more noise - I looked around and wondered how I could have ever felt lonely here or that the house was too quiet. However, for me there was still one thing missing.
    â€˜Hey Mum,’ I said. ‘Know what we need to complete the party?’
    â€˜Ear plugs,’ she replied, but I knew she didn’t mind the din.
    â€˜Nope. We need a pet.’
    â€˜Oh India . . .’
    â€˜Please, please, please,
please.’
    â€˜Not my decision.