The Rise and Rise of Tabitha Baird

by Arabella Weir

  I’m really, really, really going to miss them. I won’t see them during half-term because I’ve decided I will go and see Dad. Luke is going anyway and I decided I’d better because I haven’t seen him for weeks and it’ll be nice (I hope) and also it’ll be good to get away from Mum and all the don’t-eat-this-or-that nagging for a bit

  And it’ll be quite good to have a break from walking Basil, although I suppose that means I won’t see Sam for a week either. But then maybe he’ll miss me. Obviously I don’t mean ‘miss me’ big time, like we’re a couple or something, but, you know, maybe he’ll notice I’m not around and then wonder where I am … and think about me and stuff, and that’d be good.

  Anyway, must go as I don’t want to be late meeting up with Emz and A’isha.

  When Luke and I got off the train, Dad and GB were standing on the platform waiting for us.

  I could not believe Dad had brought his mum! We hadn’t seen him for nearly two months. Honestly, you’d think he might want to see us alone, even just for a few minutes.

  I soon found out why he’d brought her, though. As we climbed into GB’s car she said (in that sing-song voice that Mum says is her way of saying, ‘Everything’s lovely’ even when it’s not), ‘I hope you don’t mind your old gran coming along, but your poor daddy was so nervous about seeing you both after such a long time I thought I’d give him a little moral support.’

  Luke and I were in the back and looked at each other. We were both obviously thinking the same thing, Poor daddy?

  I admit Dad was never as do-y as Mum. It was always her organising everything. But GB was talking about him like he was an invalid who was going to face scary monsters or something, not his own kids!

  Even though her house is quite big, GB put Luke and me in the same bedroom, which we were both annoyed about, though me more than him. I am thirteen years old! I can’t believe she thinks I’m okay about sharing a bedroom with my ten-year-old brother. I’m way too grown up for that. There was no point in saying anything, though. She showed us to our room and in that same annoying voice said, ‘Here you are, in together, just like when you were little. Aaw, won’t that be lovely?’

  With Gran I could have explained why it was not going to be lovely at all, but then Gran wouldn’t have done it in the first place. GB seems to think Luke and I are still babies!

  We had a nice supper and it was good to see Dad. He didn’t have anything to drink at dinner but neither did GB, so it was hard to tell if Dad’s actually given up (like he always, always said to Mum he would) or doesn’t drink in front of GB. Let’s see if Dad keeps it up over the next few days. I don’t want to be checking up on him, though – that isn’t my job.

  It used to feel like it was my job, though, because sometimes when they were together Mum would ask me if I’d seen Dad have a drink. I really hated that. I didn’t want to lie to Mum, but I didn’t want to have to watch everything my dad did. It made me feel like I was the grown-up – like they were my kids and I was supposed to look after them! I’ll bet no other kid in the world feels like their parents are actually their kids.

  Dad asked us what we wanted to do while we were there and if we wanted to see any of our old school friends.

  ‘Oh yes, definitely, that’d be brilliant!’ Luke cried out.

  I definitely don’t want to see any of those girls from my old school, but I didn’t say anything because I thought GB might go on about what a lovely school it was and what a shame I was now at a not-so-lovely school, which is what she thinks about HAC even though she knows absolutely nothing about it.

  She thinks my old school is brilliant in every single way. It’s private, so, for her, that makes it better than anywhere you don’t pay for, anyway.

  GB suggested we take a drive past our old house, but both Luke and I, together said no immediately.

  ‘Oh, that’s a shame. I’d love to see what the new people have done,’ GB said. ‘That house needed so much work – it could have been so beautiful. I always wondered why your mother didn’t get round to organising it.’

  Luke and me looked at each other. We both knew what she really meant – it was Mum’s fault our old house had never got all done up, like hers, and that was the reason Dad had become a drinker.

  I don’t know why but I instantly felt like I had to stick up for Mum. ‘Mum says she never really liked that house anyway,’ I said, super-casually, like it was just a normal piece of information.

  ‘Hmm, well that was pretty clear,’ GB replied, sort of under her breath but deliberately-on-purpose not quite enough, i.e. we were supposed to hear it but she could pretend that she hadn’t meant us to hear, which made me really cross. It’s not Mum’s fault. That house was enormous and Dad was the one who wanted to buy it but then hardly ever did any of the bits of fixing-up Mum asked him to do.

  And then Dad said, ‘I loved that house,’ in an I-feel-so-sorry-for-myself voice.

  ‘I know, darling, this has all been so hard for you,’ GB sighed to Dad – in front of us two! Luke and I looked at each other, amazed. We could not believe what we were hearing! Dad’s mother, our own grandmother, was actually saying, in front of us, how difficult it was for him.

  ‘Mum said we should never have bought that house, it was far too … too,’ and then, suddenly, I couldn’t remember the word Mum had used.

  I was furious. I wanted GB to stop blaming Mum for everything. I knew this word explained why she didn’t like the house, in a way that didn’t blame anybody.

  ‘Isometric!’ I said, desperately hoping that was the word. ‘Yes, Mum says the house was too isometric,’ I repeated.

  GB narrowed her eyes and made a sneery face like I’d just farted really loudly or something.

  Maybe it wasn’t ‘isometric’. I didn’t know for sure but I wasn’t about to admit that in front of her.

  Luke looked at me and whispered, super quietly, ‘You mean isolated. That’s what Mum says – it was too isolated, like far away from everything. Isometric means three-dimensional.’

  For once, I was really grateful for Luke’s swottiness. I knew he was trying to make sure no one else heard. Luckily, they didn’t.

  ‘ISOLATED!’ I practically shouted out, ‘That house was too isolated, that’s what Mum thinks,’ I continued, quite loudly, sort of trying to cover up that I’d got the word wrong the first time.

  ‘Well, it was a bit, I suppose,’ Dad said, at last.

  ‘Hmm,’ GB said. ‘Something like that is only ever a problem if you make it one!

  Luke and I stared at each other. We knew exactly what she meant – everything that had gone wrong was all Mum’s fault.

  I’m not going to tell him but actually it was quite fun sharing a room with Luke. It meant we could talk which was really nice. We talked for ages. We haven’t done that for a long time.

  We decided that GB had never liked Mum (which is what Mum had always said anyway) and that actually probably no one in the world would be good enough for her little boy – our dad!

  Luke asked about HAC and if he’d like it there. I told him it was great and much more fun than my old snooty school.

  Luke told me he liked his new school better than his old one too and actually quite liked living at Gran’s but that he missed Dad a lot ‘even if he is a bit hopeless at being a grown-up.’

  I didn’t say I did as well, because although I do, I thought I might cry if I said it out loud and then Luke might take the mick or, worse, start crying too.

  Anyway, I think Luke probably misses Dad in a different way to me – more like a boy missing a dad to do boy-type things together, even though Dad didn’t ever do many of those either. Dad wasn’t very do-y around the house or with us.

  I’m beginning to realise that Dad just isn’t a very do-y type of person – maybe that’s why he drinks. Maybe he wishes he was more do-y but just doesn’t know how to be. There must be some real reason why people drink too much. It can’t just be so that they can get out of doing stuff.

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nbsp; Just as we were going to sleep Luke started imitating GB’s voice which gave me the giggles.

  ‘Oh darling, don’t be horrid to your poor old daddy, he’s only forty-six years old. It’s not his fault, nothing is his fault, he’s only little, my darling boy.’

  Luke does her voice really well.

  ‘You know,’ I said, just before I fell asleep, ‘Gran says the same sort of things about Basil.’

  Luke nearly died laughing.

  Oh my god, I don’t know what to do. I feel sick. Oh god, oh god, oh god, I’m so upset. I literally don’t know what to do … or think!

  When I went downstairs this morning, Dad was on the phone. I could hear it was Mum because she was shouting, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying.

  Dad was just standing in the hall with the phone pressed to his ear and his shoulders all slumped, like a kid who was being told off. I couldn’t work out what was going on. Then I heard him mumble into the phone, ‘What am I supposed to do about it? It’s not my fault.’

  When Dad spotted me he said, ‘She’s up now. Why don’t you talk to her?’ and handed the phone to me. Obviously Mum hadn’t agreed because as I took the phone she was shouting, ‘I don’t want to talk to her, I am so angry – why don’t you tell her?’

  ‘Hello, Mum, it’s me. Dad’s gone,’ I said, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt.

  ‘Yes, I’ll bet he has. Typical, he doesn’t want to deal with yet another disaster!’ Mum shouted.

  ‘Don’t have a go at me. I haven’t done anything!’ I hissed back.

  ‘Yes you have!’ Mum screamed down the phone. And then she told me what she was ringing about.

  Oh god, oh god, oh god. Rats. Bums. Grrrrrr. Apparently the letter that Miss Wright had said she was going to write to Mum ‘letting her know her decision’ had arrived this morning and she has given me a whole month’s worth of detentions! One entire month! That is so over the top. Oh god, I think I’m going to throw up. Apparently she considers me climbing on the roof to be very serious because not only did I endanger my own life, but that of two other pupils. If it wasn’t because I had just started at the school and she realised I was obviously finding it very difficult to settle down, she would have considered suspending me – and if anything like this happens in the future she will! Miss Wright said that when she talked to me, I didn’t appear to be very sorry, or understand just how easily I could have had a serious accident.

  It’s not really, actually my fault I hadn’t been ‘very sorry’ cos I hadn’t been listening when she was talking! I might have been ‘very sorry’ if she’d bothered to tell me that’s what she wanted me to be!

  Mum was going absolutely bonkers. She kept shouting and yelling down the phone.

  I started crying, not because Mum was shouting at me – she’s done that loads of times, although, I admit, this was the worst I’d ever heard her – but because I realised I wouldn’t be able to hang out with Emz and A’isha every day after school. It was such a long time! It was making me really upset. What if they stopped liking me because I wasn’t around any more? What if someone else took my place? What if they just completely forgot about me? A whole month of not being able to hang with them after school is a complete disaster!

  Mum said the letter went on about my ‘bad behaviour’ and that Emz and A’isha’s parents were very upset about the bad influence I appeared to have on their daughters, making them go up on the roof and risking their lives, and encouraging A’isha to take off her hijab and disrespect her faith. It was so incredibly unfair – that was nothing to do with me!

  ‘I didn’t make them go up on the roof! We all did it – it wasn’t just me!’ I screamed back at Mum. It was so unfair. I’ll bet Emz and A’isha didn’t really say it was all my fault. It wasn’t even my idea in the first place – it was A’isha’s. I’m not saying it was all her fault either, I’m just saying it wasn’t my idea alone. It wasn’t like I forced them up there against their will.

  I was so angry and upset. I started sobbing and Mum started crying too and then shouting at me again.

  Suddenly GB appeared from nowhere and just took the phone out of my hand.

  ‘Go into the kitchen, have some breakfast and calm down, please,’ she said bossily.

  I was grateful she’d taken over because I’d got so upset I could hardly speak and Mum wasn’t making much sense by then either. I know they don’t really like each other much, but I hoped that maybe GB would make Mum see that perhaps it could all be sorted out.

  When I went into the kitchen Dad was standing by the sink drinking coffee and looking down into his cup, all sad and hopeless. He looked up at me when I walked in and shrugged his shoulders and then I saw an open bottle of whisky behind him. He hadn’t even tried to hide it.

  I wanted to kick him. He shouldn’t have been feeling sorry for himself and he definitely shouldn’t be drinking. This is supposed to be when he, my dad, is supposed to know what to do!

  ‘Why are you drinking, you crappy loser?’ I screamed at him. I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t believe that the first thing he did as soon as there was any trouble – some actual parent stuff for him to do – was to start drinking.

  ‘Don’t have a go at me, darling. I don’t know what to do. What do you think I should do?’ he moaned.

  I just lost it. ‘Why are you asking me? I’m not a grown-up, you are, or you’re supposed to be. That is your job as my parent!’

  ‘It doesn’t look like I’m very good at being one though, does it?’

  ‘You’re not even trying!’ I shouted at him. ‘At least Mum is taking care of us and trying to manage. You’re asking me to be grown-up for you!’

  Dad didn’t say anything and then GB walked into the room. She looked at the whisky bottle and then at Dad, but she didn’t tell him off. I doubt GB has ever told Dad off for anything in his whole life. No wonder he thinks he can do whatever he likes!

  ‘Right, that’s all sorted then,’ GB said, looking pleased with herself. ‘I’ve made your mother see sense, Tabitha. She didn’t like it at first, but she realised I was right. You’re going to stay here with your father and me and go back to your old school. Clearly this new school you’re attending hasn’t got the faintest idea of how to properly manage or educate a young girl.’

  What? Are you joking? Are you having a laugh? My head was spinning but I was dumbstruck. I couldn’t speak.

  I couldn’t believe they’d do this to me. I couldn’t believe Mum would leave me here. I couldn’t believe Mum would let GB keep me. I didn’t know what to say. I was reeling. I thought I was going to be sick.

  Dad broke the silence. ‘I can’t afford the fees, Mum.’

  ‘I know, darling. Don’t worry, I’ll sort all that out,’ GB said to Dad, as if a grown man being broke and not able to take care of his own kids was a completely normal thing.

  Neither of them even looked at me. It was like they thought this whole mammoth decision had nothing to do with me, like it was just up to them.

  ‘There is no way I am going back to my old school and even more no way I am going to live here with you two!’ I shouted really loudly. I didn’t care what either of them thought by now. ‘You can’t make decisions for me!’ I said crossly to GB.

  ‘I am your grandmother and as such —’

  I wasn’t going to listen to this rubbish. ‘Dad can’t even make decisions for himself, never mind anyone else. But you are not going to control me too!’

  I stormed out and ran upstairs to my room. Luke wasn’t around. I didn’t know where he was, but I knew I couldn’t hang around waiting for him. They weren’t going to force me back into that school. And they were not going to make me live with them.

  I wanted to talk to Muzzy but I’d left her back at home. She was on top of my bed – not stuffed down the side. Not because of Luke’s stupid Post-it note, though – just because … I don’t know, just because. She looked much happier there. But I wished I’d brought her with me.

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bsp; I stuffed all my things into my rucksack and pulled my shoes on. I couldn’t really think what to do next. My head was pounding and I felt shaky and I sort of wanted to cry, but I knew I couldn’t, not now – there was no time for that.

  And then I heard Dad at the door. ‘Tabitha, darling, can we talk? Please don’t be cross with me.’

  I didn’t reply. I couldn’t think what to say. He just hasn’t got a clue – not a single clue.

  Then I heard GB say to Dad, ‘Leave her be. She’ll come down when she’s hungry,’ and that did it. I was so angry that she obviously just thought I was having some sort of babyish tantrum. This is my life! This is the most important thing that has ever happened to me in my whole life ever and she thinks I’ll forget about everything when I want something to eat!

  I decided I had to get back to London. I had to find a way to sort everything out.

  I opened the window, leant out and looked down at the garden. It was a pretty big drop but I didn’t think it was big enough to break a leg or anything. There was no other way out without risking GB or Dad seeing me, so I had to go out of the window. There was nothing else for it.

  I felt bad leaving Luke behind, but he’s only ten – I couldn’t take him with me. And anyway, he had no reason to leave. They’re not making him live with them, like a prisoner, and forcing him back to his old school. Still, he probably won’t want to be here all on his own.

  But I am not hanging around. I left a note for him. I didn’t say where I was going, though, because although I’m pretty sure I could trust him not to tell on me, I bet they’d make him. I don’t want them to know – they’ll just try and find me and force me to come back here and I am never coming back, never, ever, ever.

  I lowered my rucksack out of the window first, using the fancy ropes GB has round her curtains to hold them neatly in place when they’re open. She will not like that.