Precious by Precious Williams

Author:Precious Williams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Hewer Text UK Ltd
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2010-06-14T04:00:00+00:00

Upside Down

LIFE TURNS EASY AND weeks and months melt happily into one another.

I write a poem about a cat that can read people’s minds. I send it into a comic, they publish it and pay me two pounds.

As Aunty Wendy’s belly swells, she and Uncle Mick buy me more sweets, more stickers, more Sindy doll’s clothes than ever. ‘I don’t want you feeling left out or nothing,’ Uncle Mick says.

My mother doesn’t ring or write or turn up, and I don’t care since I still hate her.

Then, one afternoon, I emerge from school, laden with library books, and find there’s nobody there to meet me. I wait and wait. I walk down the steep little hill to Parkfield Road. No Nanny. No Aunty Wendy. Not even Agnes. I stare wanly at the passing cars, my satchel weighing heavily on my shoulder.

‘Wotcha!’ A rough male voice. ‘Where you off to then?’

Across the road, leaning against someone’s garden fence, one skinny leg crossed in front of the other, is Uncle Mick. He is rolling a Rizla between his thumb and forefinger. Uncle Mick’s hair billows out in the wind, forming a halo around his thin face. He dips his head and lights his fag.

‘What are you doing here?’

I dread hearing the answer to my own question. Uncle Mick should be at work. Him being here means something is seriously wrong. Nanny and Aunty Wendy may be dead. My mother might have killed them.

‘Shouldn’t you be at work Uncle Mick?’

‘Keep your hair on, mate. Got the afternoon off, didn’t I?’

‘How come?’

‘Do you ever stop asking bleeding questions? Like being interrogated being around you. Hurry up then, nipper.’

I try to keep up with Uncle Mick’s loping strides.

‘Where’s Aunty Wendy then?’

‘She’s up St Richard’s hospital, isn’t she.’

I stop mid-stride.

‘Is she . . . still alive?’

‘Of course she’s bloody alive! She’s having a check-up.’

‘Is her baby coming out, Uncle Mick?’

‘I should bloody well hope not,’ says Uncle Mick, laughing nervously. ‘It’s not due yet, is it?’

‘Where’s Nanny?’

‘With Wendy. Drove her to the hospital. You gonna stand here talkin’ then, or are you coming home?’

We walk through Hunter Close, where some of the poshest kids at my school live. We cross New Road taking the shortcut to Woodview – a narrow path that’s sandwiched between the fire station and an explosion of blackberry bushes whose branches tear at your hair as you pass.

‘I’ve been told to tell you your mother’s rung for you earlier. You know, you never told me what that Africa was like. Secretive little bugger, ain’t you?’

‘It was quite a good laugh being there,’ I say, smiling up at him. ‘Until, you know, I got ill. My cousins and aunties were really nice.’

‘So you liked it then? I don’t blame you.’

As we walk, I casually search the blackberry bushes for ripe fruit but every blackberry I see is either green and too unripe to eat or brown and all shrivelled up. Somehow Uncle Mick finds one that is deep purple, fat and bursting with sugary juice.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.