The World's Worst Mothers (10 page)

‘Dad, there's a problem about the school trip,' said Bruno to his father the next morning.

‘Could I have another cup of coffee, please, Anna?' said Bruno's father from behind the newspaper, pushing his coffee cup towards her.

‘Did you hear what I said, Dad?'

Bruno touched his father on the arm, and Aunt Anna calmly poured coffee right past the cup and onto the floor.

Bruno's father jumped up. ‘What an awful mess!' he shouted.

‘Me-mess! An awful mess. I'll clean it up straight away, no prob-prob-prob, no problem.' Aunt Anna was already flapping around with a dishcloth.

‘I'm talking about the school trip, Dad,' said Bruno again.

At last his father looked at him and said, ‘This is the first I've heard of a school trip.'

‘Mum signed the form but it hasn't been paid for yet. My teacher is pretty cross about it.'

‘And when is it happening?'

‘Today.'

His father lowered the paper.

‘Today?' he asked, taken aback.

‘We're meeting at the train station at ten o'clock.'

‘Your mother must have forgotten to tell me about it,' said his father.

‘We're going to an island in the North Sea. We're going by train, and then we get a ferry. I need …' Bruno tried to work out what a trip like this would be likely to cost. ‘A hundred euro.'

‘Fine, fine. And how long are you going to be staying there?' Dad was taking his wallet out of his pocket.

‘Five days,' said Bruno quickly. He would probably be back before that, but then he could say where he'd really been.

‘And who is going to do your packing? Not me, I hope.'

‘Aunt Anna has packed my suitcase and she will take me.'

‘Yes, yes, I'll take take … take the whole mess mess aw-aw-away,' stuttered Aunt Anna from under the table.

‘She'd like to go home then for a while,' said Bruno quickly, ‘unless you need her here?'

‘No, no, I'll be fine on my own' said his father, not very convincingly.

Good thing his father left everything to do with school up to his mother, thought Bruno. He hadn't been the least bit suspicious.

Bruno sat at his desk and practised his mother's signature once again. It looked a bit wobbly. Not to worry, nobody was going to check it. Then he typed into the computer:

Dear Herr Mulke
Bruno is very sick with the measles and won't be at school for a week. As he is very contagious, his school friends may not visit.
Yours sincerely

That sounded right, Bruno thought. He'd been going to say chicken pox, but then he'd decided that was too harmless. The important thing was to make sure nobody from school came by; otherwise the cat would be out of the bag.

Bruno opened his inbox. The girl he'd come across on the Internet when he had typed ‘Who knows Aunt Anna?' and with whom he had exchanged several emails last night had written again:

I've checked everything. Your train leaves at 10.35. You have to change in Hamburg. You catch the train for Südersiel on the opposite platform. I'll see you there. You'll know me – I'll have my little brother with me. I can't leave him behind. I'm afraid I couldn't find out on the Internet what time the ferry for Nordfall leaves at.
Very excited!
Sophie

Bruno replied:

My father swallowed the story about the school trip. That was a great idea of yours. You'll recognise me – I'll have AA with me! Let's hope she doesn't go wild. She's stuttering a lot lately. Obviously something has gone wrong.
Till later, then!
Bruno

Bruno had packed his rucksack before breakfast. Now he stuck his toothbrush into the side pocket. Then he thought, had Aunt Anna not had a suitcase with her when she arrived?

He went up to the guest room. The bed was made. A pink nightdress lay neatly folded on the duvet cover. The suitcase was in the corner. It was empty. Aunt Anna's things were hanging in the wardrobe. Bruno stuffed it all into the suitcase. He didn't want anything of hers to remain here.

On the vanity unit lay a hairbrush and a make-up bag. All for show! There wasn't a single hair in the hairbrush, and the make-up bag contained lipstick and eyeshadow that had never been used. He'd like to dump the suitcase and its owner into the rubbish bin. But he couldn't do that. He needed her for the journey. It would look far less suspicious if he were accompanied on the train by his aunt.

He felt a bit queasy when he tried to imagine what awaited them on Nordfall. All he knew, from this Sophie who had written to him in answer to his question ‘Who knows Aunt Anna?', was that there was a toy factory belonging to a certain Walther Wohlfarth on the island, and that their Aunt Annas must have come from this factory. But were their mothers also there? And if so, why? Well, this puzzle would soon be solved. Very soon.

Sophie didn't give a thought to how her absence would go down at school. She was going to have to repeat the year anyway. Nobody would be very surprised if she didn't put in an appearance between now and the summer holidays.

She was planning to leave the house just before eight, taking Nicholas with her. She often did that. But instead of going to school, she would go to the railway station, buy a ticket and climb aboard the train for Hamburg. The thought of leaving Aunt Anna all alone in the flat made her feel a bit uneasy. But what harm could she do? At most, she'd clean the place to within an inch of its life.

She opened her schoolbag and put her books on a shelf. Then she filled the schoolbag with a few changes of clothes and her and Nicholas's toothbrushes. Then she wrote a last note to Dragon Monster:

Don't be surprised if you don't hear from me for a while. I have to go away. I can't say where. But when I get back, I will tell you the craziest story you have ever heard.

What she was planning really was crazy. Maybe even dangerous. But then, she wouldn't be on her own. The only thing was, it could be that this Bruno was such a mammy's boy that he wouldn't be able to manage without his mum. Or he might just be plain stupid. You never know with boys.

Lulu came and rubbed against her legs, mewing softly.

‘I know what I'll do about you,' said Sophie. ‘I'll ask Frau Surbier downstairs to feed you. I don't think I could trust Aunt Anna to look after you!'

Emily came home two hours early from school because sport had been cancelled. Just as Aunt Anna was about to leave the apartment at one thirty to go to the Italian place across the road to pick up a pizza, Emily said, ‘No, it's my turn today. I'll cook something nice for us.'

But all she could find in the fridge were yoghurt, cheese and eggs. They'd been there since before her mother had left. But there were enough tins of ravioli in the larder to see them through a siege. Emily opened a tin and heated up the contents in a saucepan.

Of course Aunt Anna didn't eat anything. ‘I was in the café earlier and had a piece of chocolate gateau,' she said. ‘And I'm so full.'

She always said that. Sometimes it was cheesecake, sometimes apple pie.

The taste of the overcooked ravioli made Emily think of her mother. Which brought a lump to her throat.

She ate up quickly and then she went into her room to write a letter to her mother. Nobody could object to that. A letter wouldn't hurt anyone.

Her father had given her notepaper for her birthday. Pale pink with a border of little red hearts. Her mother would certainly find that in bad taste, but she didn't have any other paper.

Dear Mum,
I hope you are well. I am great. Aunt Anna is really nice. She even ironed my white blouse.

Emily crossed out that last sentence. It might hurt her mother's feelings.

Only she can't cook. When are you coming home?

Emily chewed her pen for a bit, and then she wrote on.

I miss you.
Lots of kisses
From Emily

Emily folded the letter and put it in an envelope, just as pink as the paper. She was about to stick it down when it occurred to her that Aunt Anna might like to add a few words to it.

‘I've written a letter to Mum,' said Emily, coming into the kitchen to Aunt Anna. ‘Would you like to add something to it?'

Aunt Anna pressed the button of the dishwasher and beamed at her.

‘I don't write letters,' she said. ‘That's old-fashioned.'

‘Yes, I know. Everyone sends emails these days – that or text messages – but I can't reach Mum that way.'

‘She has no signal.'

‘I know. Can you give me her address, please?'

‘She's at the North Sea,' said Aunt Anna. ‘And she is well.'

‘She will be delighted to get a letter from me. Then she will be even better.'

‘She is well,' Aunt Anna said again. ‘Would you like some chocolate whip for dessert?'

She opened a packet of chocolate Angel Delight and poured it into a bowl.

‘No!' said Emily. ‘I want to know –'

‘Or would you prefer vanilla?' Aunt Anna said, unconcerned, calmly opening a second packet.

‘You must have her address,' insisted Emily. ‘They must have given you her address in case anything happens.'

‘She's on an island in the North Sea, and she has no mobile connection,' said Aunt Anna. She pointed at the two bowls. ‘Which would you prefer?'

‘I couldn't reach her on her mobile anyway,' replied Emily, ‘because she left it behind her. I told you that already.' She was starting to get impatient.

‘The brown one is chocolate whip and the yellow one is vanilla,' said Aunt Anna. ‘Which one would you like to have?'

Emily could feel anger rising in her, a dreadful anger.

‘Please give me her address right now, or I'll call my father.'

That was an empty threat. Her father couldn't come to the rescue because he was on holiday with his girlfriend. He'd let that drop quite casually when she had phoned him shortly after her mother went away. ‘We'll still be going to Majorca, chicken. Just the two of us.' But even if he had been around, she wouldn't have called him. She could just hear his sharp intake of breath if he heard that her mother had upped and left her in the care of a total stranger. Her father not only thought his ex-wife was annoying but also that she was a bad mother.

He'd often asked Emily if she wouldn't prefer to live with him and his new girlfriend. But for one thing, Emily couldn't stand the woman – she put on such a false smile whenever she caught sight of Emily. And for another, she couldn't do that to her mother. Somebody had to look after her.

‘I'm going to get my father,' Emily repeated menacingly.

‘Your mother is on an island in the North Sea. She is very well,' said Aunt Anna, unmoved. ‘Would you prefer chocolate or –'

‘To hell with your chocolate whip!' yelled Emily. She picked up the bowl and poured the stuff all over Aunt Anna's head.

While Emily was staring helplessly at Aunt Anna, who was dripping chocolate gunge onto the floor, three children were looking helplessly around Südersiel station. There wasn't a window with a person behind it anywhere to be seen, no one you could ask a question of. There was a ticket machine beside a graffiti-covered bench. There was a notice on the machine:
Out of order.