Running on Empty by S. E. Durrant

Author:S. E. Durrant
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Holiday House
Published: 2018-10-01T16:00:00+00:00

I’m trying not to watch Josephine as she collapses onto a kitchen chair. She’s literally moving in slow motion. She looks like she might end up on the floor.

“I’ve just got to sit quietly for a moment,” she says.

Except Josephine can’t sit quietly.

We watch the tea brew. Mum’s scrubbed out the glass jug and the tea bags are floating on top of the water. I suppose they must do that in teapots too, it’s just that you can’t see them.

“I’ll buy you a new teapot, Alice,” says Josephine.

“You will not buy me a new teapot,” says Mum.

“Why not?”

“I like the jug.”

Aisha looks up from her work. She’s actually got homework today. She’s drawing a number grid.

“Why do you like the jug, Alice?” she says.

“Because it’s mine,” says Mum.

Josephine sighs.

“What’s your homework, Aisha?” she says. “What are you trying to do?”

“Well,” says Aisha, “I’ve got twelve sweets to share between four children. I have to work out how many they get each. I’m drawing a number grid.”

“I don’t think you need a number grid,” Josephine says. “Not to divide four into twelve. Don’t they teach you times tables?”

She starts to recite the four times table really slowly, like Aisha’s stupid.

Aisha puts her hands over her ears.

“I’m doing it the way the teacher says.”

Josephine rolls her eyes.

“Okay. Sorry. Can I show you after then?”

Aisha nods.

It takes Aisha ages to do her number grid and all the time Josephine’s drumming her fingers on the table.

“Do you have to do number grids, AJ?” Josephine says. “At secondary school.”

I shrug. I don’t want to get involved.

“Three,” says Aisha angrily. “They get three sweets each.”

“Well done, yes,” says Josephine. “But you can’t draw a grid every time you need to know how many times four goes into twelve.”

Then she recites the four times table again. Only this time she writes it down as she says it.

“That means four children times three sweets makes twelve sweets altogether. Simple.”

Aisha shrugs.

“Don’t shrug, sweetheart, just because AJ does it. You’re not a teenager yet,” Josephine says.

Mum gets up, fills the kettle, and walks into the garden. It’s cold out there but she’s not coming in.

The kettle’s boiling. I ignore it (which isn’t easy, I can tell you). Josephine gets up and switches it off at the plug. I look at her through the cloud of steam. She looks hot and annoyed and really, really pregnant, like if she’s not careful she’ll have the baby right there and then in the kitchen.

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