The Baby by Lisa Drakeford Page A

Olivia seems in a rush. She hitches up her bag and takes a step away. ‘That’s the bell. I’ll get slaughtered if I’m late one more time this week.’ She looks quickly at her sister, nodding towards the emptying playground. ‘And you need to go too. Don’t you have assembly today?’
    With her timetable firmly imprinted in her brain, Alice knows only too well when she has assembly. She had committed the timetable to memory from day two of year seven. She is good like that. And no, assembly is not until tomorrow.
    Olivia rushes off with a backwards wave so that she does not see the one and only wave which Alice is able to offer on this April morning.

    Alice has the opportunity to try out her instructions on that very day. She is in the library. It is lunchtime. She has eaten her sandwiches in the corner of the netball courts where hardly anyone goes. She checked on her dogs Agate and Onyx while she was there, but no one noticed.
    She has her head in an Eoin Colfer book. It is really rather good and if it was not for the earlier conversation with Olivia then she might have been able to immerse herself in the story. She is in her favourite corner: out of the way of most of the activity, yet within eyesight of the friendly librarian who Alice really admires. Any trouble and she is within easy vision of a member of staff. And this is how Alice likes it. Always.
    Dotted around the library are a few individuals sitting andreading like Alice. It is a sunny April lunchtime so most of the school are outside enjoying the fresh air. There are a huddle of year seven boys over by the junior non-fiction, some year seven girls standing by the window and a gang of year eight boys ogling the graphic novels.
    Every one of the individual readers is a prospective friend for Alice. She remembers how Olivia said they must have something in common, so all of these children with their heads in their books must have an enjoyment of reading as a shared interest.
    Her heart glows with this thought. She could suddenly have so many friends.
    She places her book down carefully, pushing a bookmark between pages 146 and 147 . She is as quiet as a mouse.
    She likes the look of a girl two tables down. She has messy blonde hair scraped back with a band and from where Alice is sitting she can see her knees jiggle up and down under the table. She does not look fashion-conscious. These people make Alice nervous because she does not understand changing fashion trends. This girl has on a school uniform and there do not appear to be any telltale accessories to suggest a strong liking for fashion.
    With weak knees Alice stands up and walks towards the girl. She is reading a Jacqueline Wilson book – one which Alice read last year. It is a good book and she wonders if, later on when they are friends, they might discuss it.
    In a strong, confident voice, because Olivia says it’s not good to sound nervous, Alice blurts out, rather louder thanshe expected, ‘Hello. I’m Alice Wilkes. I live at 28 Northgate Road, Prenton, Leicestershire, LE56 6TD. I am currently eleven years old although I’m due to be twelve soon. Who are you?’
    The blonde girl looks up from her Jacqueline Wilson, startled, with wide, frightened eyes. She swallows and for a brief second looks around to check if Alice is speaking to her.
    But the look is very short because it is interrupted loudly and rudely by the bunch of year seven girls who have moved behind the blonde girl. Alice failed to see them come over – she was so focused on her introduction.
    Alice watches anxiously as the year sevens hoot with laughter. They literally cannot seem to contain themselves. They go bright red, they stuff fists into their mouths and they cross their legs in hysterics. One of them even mimics Alice. This, Alice thinks miserably, is especially cruel. She feels a flush rise up from the base of her spine. It prickles her neck and reaches her cheeks within