Free Odd Socks by Ilsa Evans Page B

daughter under the bed. ‘I wouldn’t want you having to move, after all.’
    â€˜Hello, all,’ says Phillip, looking exceptionally tall, dark and well groomed, as usual. ‘Congratulations, Nick and Bronte.’
    â€˜Thanks, mate,’ responds Nick, who seems to be in his element. ‘Come over and have a better look.’
    â€˜Okay.’ Phillip grabs Elizabeth by the hand and they move slowly across the crowded room. Elizabeth gives me a smile as she passes and I smile back. She is a taller version of her two older sisters but, apart from that and a tendency to add chestnut highlights to her much longer hair, looks almost identical.
    â€˜Is this Bronte Diamond’s room?’ asks a young female at the door. She has flat black hair, flat black clothing and a large gold hoop through one eyebrow. She is also holding what looks like a badly wrapped pogo stick.
    â€˜Merrill!’ yell Bronte and Nick in unison from the bed. ‘Come in!’
    Merrill comes in, and is immediately followed by about four other young females and one extremely reluctant-looking male. They head over to the bed and deliver a series of kisses to Bronte’s cheek and a pile of presents to Nick’s lap. I’m shoved even further into my corner and the cupboard handledigs painfully into my back. I’d dearly like to call it quits and escape but I don’t like my chances of dragging my mother away. She has firmly ensconced herself on the armrest of the green vinyl chair and is deep in discussion with Rose Riley who, obviously taking the matriarch role seriously, is showing no inclination to give up either the baby or the only seat. For some reason, which I’ve never been able to fathom, Rose and my mother get along extremely well and even go on quite a lot of outings together. Perhaps opposites really do attract.
    One of Diane’s boys elbows me in the stomach as he tries to manoeuvre his way past. While I double up in pain, he apologises quickly and then steps over a sister as he continues pushing his way towards his brothers, who are leaning casually against Eeyore’s bed-end on the other side of the room. Eeyore herself is still buried.
    â€˜Look what I’ve got!’ He brandishes the television remote control at them and they respond with various hoots of encouragement. Within seconds the television is on, the sports channel has been found, and all the males in the room are watching with varying degrees of interest. I glance over to see how Eeyore is taking all this, but she has simply buried herself still deeper and now even her head is covered. Diane follows my gaze and, when she sees the small mound of blankets, takes the remote from one of her sons and turns the volume down as well as shooing them away from the bed-end. But it doesn’t make any real difference either to the level of noise in the room or the feeling of claustrophobia.
    Meanwhile, the mobile twin has flip-flopped over to me and has her neck bent back at an impossible angle while she looks up at me with interest. After a few moments contemplation, she gives a sudden, sideways jerk and rolls herself onto her stomach. Then she reaches up to hook a finger into the lowest side pocket of my cargo pants and, using this as leverage, slowlybut surely pulls herself into a wobbly standing position. Once upright, she looks around for applause.
    â€˜Bravo, Regan!’ says Regan’s mother with enthusiasm as her offspring leans forwards and starts sucking wetly on my knee. ‘Did you see that, David?’
    â€˜Yes!’ responds her husband heartily. ‘What a clever girl!’
    â€˜Did you know, I only just found out that my daughter has changed her entire carpet?’ Mum asks Rose incredulously. ‘She never tells me anything!’
    â€˜I know the feeling, dear,’ says Rose, shaking her head sympathetically as she adjusts the bunny-rug around Sherry and slaps Elizabeth’s hand away.