Free The Accidental Mother by Rowan Coleman Page B

mourn her faux fur cushions, but she could not, she told herself. She could not be crying over rugs or cushions or sofa when so far she had witnessed neither one of these children cry over the loss of their mother. Whatever way you looked at it, they had the moral high ground. And children are more important than sofas or cushions. Apparently.
    Gingerly, Sophie picked Izzy up and held her at arm’s length. This was harder than she’d imagined; Izzy was pretty heavy and, what’s more, very ticklish. She giggled and kicked, sending a fine spray of goo all over Sophie’s dry-clean-only skirt. Sophie gritted her teeth and thanked God that she had removed her new boots and locked them safely away in her wardrobe.
    “I’m just putting you in the kitchen for a minute, Izzy,” Sophie told her. “Just while I clear up the mess, okay?”
    “Okay!” Izzy said.
    Sophie was not reassured. She set Izzy down on the floor by the window and cast an eye about for any more potential disasters. There were no sharp objects in view, no toxic substances, and no box of matches. Everything should be fine, she thought.
    “Okay, let’s play statues, okay? You stand very, very still for as long as you can and don’t move. Okay?”
    Izzy nodded. “Okay,” she said.
    Twenty minutes, two rolls of Bounty, and three bowls of warm, soapy water later, Sophie and Bella had made quite a good job of cleaning the sofa, although Sophie suspected there was no hope for the cushions, which she consigned regretfully to a garbage bag that she put outside the flat’s front door in the communal hallway.
    “Thank God,” Sophie told Bella sincerely. “That Marks and Spencer doesn’t use artificial coloring.”
    “Thank God,” Bella agreed. Sophie noticed her food also uneaten but mercifully still congealing on the plate.
    “You didn’t like it either, did you?” Sophie asked.
    “It was rather disgusting,” Bella said, wrinkling her nose.
    Sophie suppressed a smile. For a small child, Bella had a remarkably large vocabulary.
    “I’m sorry Bella,” she said. “This is all new to me. I’m not very good at it, am I?”
    “No,” Bella said. “But you’re trying.”
    Sophie somehow found the energy to get off her knees and stand up again and held out a hand to help Bella up.
    “Aunty Sophie?” Bella said, still holding on to Sophie’s fingers. “I love Grandma and everything, but I’m glad we came to stay with you.”
    Sophie felt herself smile and her resolve strengthened. “Really?” she said, warmly deciding to fish a bit further. “Why’s that?”
    Bella shrugged. “Grandma doesn’t have a telly,” she said.
    Sophie nodded and glanced at the TV, where the end credits for Richard & Judy were rolling.
    “Fair enough,” she said. “Well, I suppose we’d better go and clean up your sister.”
    “Yes, before she starts eating the cat food,” Bella said.
    Sophie laughed. “You’re joking, right?” she said.
    Bella wasn’t joking.

    Sophie gave her mum a cup of tea and her very best resentful look. Iris looked offended. “I got here as soon as I could, dear,” she said.
    “Mum, it’s twenty to ten! I was hoping you’d be round before they went to sleep. That’s when I needed help the most.”
    It was shortly after Sophie had discovered Izzy snacking on the dry cat food that she had made what would later prove to be a critical discovery. When a three-year-old girl is determined to do something, she really, really means it.
    In this case, Izzy had refused point-blank to remove her fancy dress, even for a much-needed bath. At first Sophie had tried reason and logic to persuade the child out of the dress. But then, as Izzy’s screams had grown to eardrum-perforating levels and Sophie had clutched at all the available straws, she had turned in desperation to Bella.
    “What do I do?” she had asked the older girl, who was watching with detached interest, her hands clapped over her ears.
    “Let her keep the dress on?”