Alice in Time Read Online Free PDF Page A

face even redder and uglier than normal, all scrunched up in a scream, and somehow I’d have to stop him. Picking him up and rocking him was no good because it just made him scream all the louder. I discovered that if I picked up his toys and made them walk along the edge of the cot and gave them funny voices then he stopped crying. I’d start by makingthe voice quiet so that if he wanted to hear it he’d have to stop making a noise.
    As he got older and had one of those cots with bars and could sit up and look out, I discovered that if I took all my toys into his room and played with them on the floor in front of his cot that usually kept him quiet for hours. I’d take all my Barbie dolls in there and play out stories with them. It was a bit like being at the theatre for him. He had the best front-row seat and I got to play everyone from the princess to the prince and the evil witch. Of course he didn’t really know what was going on, so I could make anything up as long as I made them have funny voices and made them move around a lot.
    This worked quite well until Rory was about two. By then Mum was getting better and not relying on me so much. But then Gran died and Mum got bad again for about a year. If she was in bed having a nap, it was up to me to keep Rory quiet.
    The problem was, the old game of him watching me play didn’t work any more. Now he wanted to play as well, but his idea of fun was to stuff my Barbie dolls into his slobbery mouth, rip their limbs from their bodies and stick their feet up his nose. Those were the darkest days but I managed to convince myself that, as I was nearly ten, I was getting too old for them anyway.
    Then last year Mum got a job at the old people’s home, or nursing home I should say, where Miss Maybrooke is. It’s only at the end of our road, which Mum thought would be great because she wouldn’t need to drive there and she’d be on hand if we needed her. Unfortunately, all it means is that when they’re short-staffed, which seems to me to be all the time,they call on my mum because she lives so close and she says she can’t say no, because the boss gets funny with her if she does, and cuts her hours down. I can’t help thinking that Mum is a mug to play into his hands in this way and she should tell him where to get off. Anyhow, it means that she’s never here any more and it’s down to me to look after Rory again.
    So I hope you can see that my fantasy wasn’t that harsh after all and that if Rory wasn’t here my life would be drastically improved. That’s why I conceived the Plan I was talking about earlier, where I go and live with Dad and Trish and can lead a civilised and peaceful existence. Which reminds me, I forgot to mention it to Dad at the wedding. I’ve been trying to find the right moment for ages now. I will definitely do it next time I see him.
    I make a half-hearted attempt at picking up some of the things that are all over the floor. Rory’s school bag has burst open and his tatty books are littered about. As I pick up his literacy book, it falls open and catches my eye because at the top of the page it says
My Big Sister
. His homework was to write an essay on me! I can’t resist reading it.
    My big sister is big and scary
.
    The cheek! I’ll give him scary! I read on.
    She shouts a lot and she doesn’t like me much. I wish I had a little sister then I could shout at her. I like it when she reads me stories but she never does. She is mean and she smells pooey.
    That’s the thanks I get, after all I do for him! I see with some satisfaction that the teacher wasn’t too impressed either. She’s circled the word ‘pooey’ and written,
This is not a nice word, Rory.

    Rory has got bored with playing dead and comes out from under the chaos. I stuff the book back into his school bag.
    ‘Quick,’ I tell him, ‘get into bed before Mum gets back.’
    ‘Never,’ he says defiantly.
    ‘You’ll be in trouble.’
    ‘You mean you’ll be in