A Perfect Life Read Online Free PDF Page B

flops off in her hand. Ruby turns on her – more like Medusa now than the
Venus de Milo
, and whacks her with a wooden spoon. Mum grabs the wooden spoon and chucks it in the dog basket before turning her face to the wall, literally, and carrying on her conversation looking into the corner of the room.
    She giggles at something Jake has said and fluffs up her hair again.
    Ruby has not finished with her. ‘Mummy, you’ve ruined it. I am glad you are in the corner. You ruin everything of mine. I was going to sell it at the fête and now it’s too small and I will have to make another one or else it will have to be thirty-five instead of seventy pounds. Or pence. I haven’t even decided which yet.’
    I pat Ruby on the head. ‘Good maths, Roobs.’ I smile at her but she is working up for a big scene, and won’t be distracted.
    â€˜It’s half,’ she snarls at me. A familiar tension is building like clouds before a storm in the kitchen. And in fact, weirdly, I glance out of the window and the sky is mental – grey and purple, too, and a couple of birds are frantically trying to fly to a tree for shelter but they don’t seem to be making headway. Anyway, it’s probably a mistake as the tree could get struck bylightning. Ruby starts to howl and on the phone this guy Jake is obviously still yakking on.
    â€˜Oh, I would love to do that. What a nice thought,’ Mum burbles.
    I wave at her, Mum scowls at me, and tucks the phone under her chin. Standing on one leg she puts her hands together as if she is ready for prayers. She always does yoga when she’s stressed. Her concentration is ragged, though, thanks to the mayhem in the kitchen, and she wobbles and drops the phone and it falls in Vespa’s water bowl.
    â€˜Shit,’ says Mum, bending over to fish it out, but Jake has gone. ‘Oh well,’ she says, and putting her hands on her hips, she tries to get organised in a cheerful Boy Scout way that doesn’t suit her. ‘OK, everyone, what would you like to do now? It’s your holidays and you can choose.’
    â€˜Good,’ sobs Ruby. ‘I choose you. I want you to talk to me, me, ME. You have hurt my feelings.’ She yanks at Mum’s skirt, making her wobble and topple on to a chair.
    Mum looks sad and young. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you, Ruby,’ she says quietly. It seems to me there is a good chance she will start crying, but luckily she pulls herself together and winks at me.
    â€˜Put the kettle on, gorgeous,’ she says to me. She isn’t making me feel safe or happy to be home. She is not acting like a mum. I feel like she is talking to a parrot, and I am not getting that cosy family feeling there sometimes is in our kitchen. Or used to be. I don’t blink but I stare and stare at her. She must bederanged. Her mood swings are worse than Foss and he’s four. She is forty, for Christ’s sake. Maybe she’s getting the old lady thing where they don’t get the curse any more and their bones go brittle. Apparently it drives them mad – well, that’s what Coral says. Thunder whacks through the sky and a hiss of rain starts instantly like a sprinkler being turned on. Mum is wiping the table and putting cups for tea on it, and trying to chat to the little ones.
    â€˜We could play Hide and Seek?’
    â€˜Nope,’ says Foss.
    â€˜Or Snakes and Ladders?’
    â€˜It’s lost,’ snaps Ruby.
    â€˜Mum, this is crap,’ I say, and I didn’t mean it to be as forceful as it sounds in the room. Mum’s face crumples; she pulls it together and tries to smile. If she didn’t make everything so difficult I would feel sorry for her right now.
    â€˜Oh,’ she says quietly, rocking Ruby in her arms. Foss climbs behind her and his arms are locked around Mum’s neck under her hair. She has a way of looking very primitive when she is surrounded by my little brother