The Suitcase Kid by Jacqueline Wilson Page B

little, I’m a lickle wickle baby,’ said Zen, and he started making loud
waaa-waaa
noises, imitating the baby.
    â€˜Come here, little baby,’ said Carrie, and she scooped Zen up into her arms and held him as if he really was her baby again. He wriggled and protested but you could tell he liked it.
    I stood watching them. Dad had his arm round Carrie, Carrie was cuddling Zen, Crystal was holding the new baby. I fidgeted in my pocket and found Radish.
    Dad saw and smiled at me.
    â€˜Do you want to hold your sister too, Andy?’
    â€˜No thanks. I’m not really that bothered about babies,’ I said, stroking Radish’s ears.
    â€˜Why don’t you take a turn? You might be able to stop her crying,’ said Carrie.
    â€˜But there’s no room on the bed.’
    â€˜You’re big enough to hold her properly,’ said Crystal enviously, and Dad handed the baby over to me.
    I popped Radish back in my pocket and took hold of the baby. She was heavier than I’d thought she would be. I didn’t know how to balance her at first but then her head lolled against my chest and my arms made a sort of cradle for her. She seemed to find it comfortable. She gave one last cry, several squeaks and splutters, and then quietened completely. I looked down at her. She looked up at me. She had big blue eyes but her hair wasn’t fair like Carrie and Crystal and Zen. She had toffee-coloured curls. She was going to be dark like Dad. Muddy-brown like me.
    I gently touched her starfish hand and her tiny fingers closed round my thumb.
    â€˜She’s holding my hand!’ I whispered.
    â€˜She likes you. She’s stopped crying,’ said Dad.
    â€˜She’s so little,’ I said, looking at her tiny fingernails, all so perfect in every detail.
    â€˜She’s actually quite big for a baby,’ said Carrie. ‘Much longer and stronger than Zen and Crystal were at that stage. I think she’s going to be tall.’
    â€˜She’s like me,’ I said.
    â€˜Well, she’s your sister, so it’s not really surprising,’ said Dad.
    â€˜Is she still going to be called Ethel?’ said Carrie.
    â€˜Yuck, Ethel’s a
stupid
name,’ said Zen.
    I swallowed. I looked down at my sister.
    â€˜Yes, it is a stupid name,’ I said. ‘She’s pretty. She ought to have a pretty name.’
    â€˜Well, what shall it be?’ said Dad. ‘We’ve already got A for Andy and C for Crystal. What about B for . . . Bella?’
    â€˜Belly-button,’ said Zen, sniggering.
    I wasn’t too keen on a B name. Dad and Carrie might carry on then and have D for Dora and E for Emma and on and on all the way through the alphabet. One little half-sister was fine, but I didn’t want a whole crowd of them.
    â€˜What about a Z name?’ I said.
    â€˜Yeah, Z’s the best. Z for Zen. That’s my name,’ said Zen, pleased.
    â€˜Z for . . . Zoë,’ I said.
    Zoë’s my special favourite sister now. She really does like me. I can nearly always stop her crying. And I can give her a bottle and wash her in the bath and change her nappy, though I’m not sure that’s such a treat. Mrs Peters is helping me make Zoë a little smock with a
Z
for Zoë embroidered on the front.
    I’ll maybe have to try to make something for Crystal too. She’s my second favourite sister and she gets fed up quite a bit of the time because she’s not big enough to do lots of things for the baby. I found her all curled up and crying in the Japanese bag the other day. I let her play with Radish for a special treat and it cheered her up a lot.
    Zen gets fed up too but catch me letting Radish anywhere near him!
    I like helping look after Zoë so much that I never really want to pack my things on Fridays when I’m at Dad’s. But then when I get to Mum’s I can pal around with Graham and Paula’s given me