My Mum's from Planet Pluto Read online

  ‘Nothing,’ I said hoarsely. ‘She’s just missing Daddy.’ And I turned off the light.

  I phoned Dad again as soon as I’d left her room but this time the phone was engaged. I tried a few times but it kept on sounding the same. Maybe my aunt had deliberately taken it off the hook.

  9

  First thing the next morning Dad phoned us. He was phoning from the hospital. Grandma had taken a turn for the worse and had been rushed into hospital a few hours ago. Dad said she wasn’t going to have a blood transfusion this time because there wasn’t any point.

  Mum had picked up the phone first and I stood by, listening as he told all of this to her. She kept saying, ‘I’m sorry, darling,’ over and over. She looked a bit dazed and, when she’d finished speaking to him, she put the phone down straight away instead of handing it over to me.

  ‘I wanted to speak to him,’ I said.

  ‘Later, Daniel. You can’t just now. Your grandmother sounds like she’s fading fast.’

  It wasn’t that I didn’t care about what was happening to my grandmother, but I had other things I needed to ask Mum about since I obviously couldn’t ask Dad now. ‘Mum . . . what you said last night—’ I began, but I had to stop as Martha came running into the room to remind us that if we didn’t hurry up we’d all be late for school.

  I waited until we’d dropped Martha off before tackling Mum again. (I was letting her give me a lift to school too today because we were running so late.) ‘Mum, what did you mean last night about that baby not being Martha?’ I asked.

  Mum turned to look at me. ‘Listen, Daniel . . .’ She seemed suddenly distracted by my school tie. Her eyes lit up as she started to tell me her latest idea for our new school uniform. She was going to commission the same dressmaker who had made many of Princess Diana’s clothes to design it for her.

  ‘But, Mum, what about—’

  ‘Red is a much better colour for a school than grey!’ she interrupted. ‘We’ll change everything grey to red! Pillar-box red or strawberry red? What do you think?’

  ‘Mum, stop it!’

  ‘Stop what?’

  ‘Stop acting like . . . like you did with the book sale! Stop acting like your ideas are more important than everybody else’s!’

  She laughed. ‘They are more important! I’m the head!’

  ‘But, Mum, it’s not like the school belongs to you!’ I protested. ‘I mean, what about all the other teachers? What about what they think?’

  ‘Daniel,’ she laughed again. ‘You are so serious! So like your dad . . . always worrying!’ And she planted a big kiss on my cheek even though I’d have rather she’d just kept facing straight ahead since she was driving round a roundabout at the time.

  We were almost at the school, so I made her stop the car to let me out before anyone saw us together. I would have to wait until this evening to ask her what she’d meant about Martha not being the baby in those photographs. But I was going to ask her just the same.

  In assembly, I sat there keeping much more still than I normally do, wishing I could sink through the floor and disappear, because Mum was wearing her most hideous skirt-and-cardigan combination yet. She beamed at everyone as she announced that red was going to be our new school colour from now on. She wanted everyone to wear a red jumper or cardigan to school tomorrow and if they didn’t have one they had to wear a red scarf or something else red instead. A ripple of murmurs went round the hall and I could see the teachers staring at each other as if they couldn’t believe what they were hearing.

  ‘The morale in a school is very important,’ Mum continued rapidly. ‘And this greyness is enough to depress anyone.’

  The whole hall was muttering noisily now. I wanted to crawl under my chair and stay there until assembly had finished. Any minute now someone was going to remember that the weirdo head teacher was my mother.

  In science everyone was talking about Mum, but amazingly they weren’t saying horrible things. They kept saying she was cool or wicked as they discussed what red thing they were going to wear to school the next day. I started to swing my feet backwards and forwards impatiently. I wished our teacher, Mr Davie, would hurry up and get there before it dawned on anyone that what Mum was doing was actually pretty strange. Thankfully Calum wasn’t in my science class or I reckon he’d already have been having a go at me.

  When Mr Davie hadn’t arrived ten minutes into the lesson, the noise level started to get pretty deafening. Mr Gregory, the head of science, came into the room, scowling at us. ‘Mr Davie seems to have mysteriously absented himself since assembly, so I have no option but to take the class instead,’ he grunted. ‘Get out your books, please.’

  We all stifled groans. Mr Gregory is a scruffy little man with popping-out eyes, and I’d never liked him ever since Mum had made that comment about him staring at her legs. Science was usually fun with Mr Davie, who was always just as keen as we were to get the boring stuff over with so we could get on with our attempts to blow up the lab (which was how he always referred to our experiments). Mr Gregory seemed to be spending all his time going over the theory and it looked like we were going to be lucky if we got anywhere near an empty test tube today, let alone a Bunsen burner.

  The room was hot and my head, which I was resting on my hands, felt really muzzy. Before I knew it my head had slumped on to my desk and I couldn’t hear Mr Gregory’s drony voice any more. I don’t know how long I’d been like that before Mr Gregory came over and poked me in the arm.

  ‘You!’ he snapped. ‘Go outside and get some fresh air! You can come back when you’ve woken up again!’

  A few of the other kids started to snigger as I stood up and headed groggily towards the door. I felt dizzy, as if all the blood was rushing back to my head at once.

  I was just heading down the corridor towards the staircase when I saw someone hurrying towards me from the far end. The person was wearing a bright red skirt and a yellow cardigan.

  ‘Daniel!’ It was Mum. ‘Daniel, it is you!’ She started to laugh in a delighted sort of way, as if she hadn’t seen me in several years instead of just this morning. She didn’t ask why I wasn’t in class. ‘I’m touring my school,’ she announced grandly. ‘I want to see what all my subjects are doing.’

  ‘Subjects?’ I queried, thinking that she had to be joking. I mean, a queen has subjects, right, not a headmistress?

  ‘Science, English, history, French, maths . . . Loyal subjects, to name but a few!’ Mum rattled on. ‘Oh, and I’ve locked that Davie man in the book cupboard with that French student. That’ll teach the two of them to sneak in there for a snog when they should be working!’

  I stared at her. I thought she was joking at first. Then I saw she had a strange look in her eyes – a shiny, whizzy sort of look as if she was up in the sky like a firework.

  10

  I heard the pounding on the door before I got to the book cupboard. The book cupboard in the languages department is one of those big walk-in ones, more like a mini room than a cupboard really, except that there are no windows. It’s situated at the end of the corridor on the far side of the toilets and the language lab is the nearest classroom along the corridor. Everyone in the lab probably had their headphones on and couldn’t hear the banging. I didn’t know what I was going to say when I unlocked the door. I just knew that I had to unlock it quickly before Mum got into trouble. She had laughed when I’d said what I was going to do, and headed off towards her own office on the floor below rather than coming with me.

  I unlocked the door and Mr Davie almost fell out. Yvette, our French student teacher, was right behind him.

  ‘Daniel, thank goodness!’ Mr Davie looked a mixture of relieved and embarrassed. ‘Yvette and I were just . . .’ He went pink. ‘Collecting some textbooks when . . . someone locked the door. They must have thought there was nobody inside.’

  ‘Someone?’ I repeated, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt. ‘Didn’t you see who?’

  ‘No.’

 
; ‘I think it was one of the girls having a joke,’ Yvette said. ‘We heard a silly laugh outside.’

  ‘Do you think you’ll be able to find out who it was?’ I asked, trying to sound casual about it, which wasn’t how I felt at all.

  The two teachers were looking at each other.

  ‘I think we will not make a fuss, Stephen – I mean, Mister Davie . . .’ Yvette said. ‘Since it was just a joke, no?’

  Mr Davie nodded. ‘I agree. No point in making a fuss. I’d better get back to my class now.’ He looked at me. ‘Daniel . . .’

  I started to see that they were both just as anxious as I was that nobody else should find out about this. I began to feel more hopeful. ‘I won’t tell anyone either,’ I said. ‘If it means no one’s going to get into trouble for shutting you in. None of the other kids, I mean,’ I added quickly.

  Mr Davie was staring at me now. ‘You don’t know who shut us in here, do you, Daniel?’

  I gulped. ‘Of course not! Mr Gregory’s taking our class,’ I added. ‘He sent me out for some fresh air because I fell asleep. I’d better hurry up.’

  Mr Davie called after me as I ran away down the corridor, ‘See you back in the classroom in ten minutes, OK?’

  ‘OK!’ I shouted back to him.

  I went to find Mum in her office. Her door was open and her secretary wasn’t there. I could hear her on the phone to someone. ‘What do you mean, you can’t give me their address? I’m an old friend. And I’m a head teacher. I need to contact them urgently.’ She listened for a few moments longer, then slammed down the phone.

  ‘Mum . . .’ I paused nervously just inside the doorway. I lowered my voice. ‘I let Mr Davie and Yvette out of the book cupboard. They don’t know it was you who shut them in. I thought we’d better not tell them. It’ll be really embarrassing if anyone finds out.’

  Mum ignored me like she’d forgotten all about that now. ‘They won’t give me Kate’s address!’ she said angrily.

  ‘Who won’t?’

  ‘That B. & B. where she was staying.’ Mum was drumming her fingers on the desk. ‘How can I find her? I must find her!’

  ‘Mum, why do you need to find Kate? Is it about Martha? Is it about what happened when Martha was a baby?’

  I’d thought I’d have to beg her to tell me. But I was wrong. She blurted it all out right there in her office. ‘It happened when she was a few days old, Daniel. Only a mother can recognize her own baby when it’s that tiny. That’s why I’m the only one who knows.’

  ‘Knows what, Mum?’

  ‘That she was swapped!’ She had that extra-bright look in her eyes again. ‘Swapped!’ I spluttered.

  Mum started to speak in short, fast bursts. ‘I got home. I knew she was a different baby. He told me I was mad to think it.’

  I couldn’t believe what she was saying. I mean, she couldn’t really think that. ‘Mum, that can’t be right! Martha couldn’t have been swapped for another baby!’

  ‘There was a patient who thought the babies were hers. All of them. All the babies,’ Mum continued. ‘She took some of them off the ward. She took mine. And Kate’s.’ Mum shuddered. ‘They got them back but it must have happened then. I didn’t see Martha again after that. Malcolm was frightened. He took her away. Home with him. It was too late by the time I found out.’

  ‘Mum, stop it!’ I shouted angrily. I couldn’t bear to hear this. Mum was talking nonsense. Dad wouldn’t have just let Martha be swapped for another baby like that.

  ‘I could tell Kate knew the truth!’ Mum continued. ‘She knew but she wanted my baby.’

  ‘Mum, stop it!’ I shouted again. ‘Why would Kate want your baby? That’s just stupid!’

  ‘Because she’s a royal baby!’ Mum shouted back. ‘That’s why!’

  I just gaped at her. Now, she wasn’t making any sense at all.

  I persuaded Mum to go home straight away. I thought I should go with her because she was so upset, but Mum wouldn’t listen to me. She insisted I stay in school and when I tried to refuse she started to shout at me again. I was scared other people would hear us if I didn’t give in, so we agreed I’d see her later at home. She left a note for her secretary saying she wasn’t feeling well and slipped away while everyone else was still in class. I was so relieved to get her off the premises that I didn’t even think that she might not really be going home like she’d said. When I got home I was going to call Dad and ask him what to do. Hopefully my grandmother would have died by now and he’d be able to come home straight away.

  I couldn’t believe I was thinking that thought – that Grandma would hurry up and die. It was like my world had just flipped upside down and all the normal things in it had become abnormal. I went around the school for the rest of the day in a weird kind of daze, like I was a visitor from another planet, rather than a normal person who was actually part of life on planet Earth.

  When I got home after school the house was empty, but there was a message on the answerphone from Mum. She said she was going to London, because she had got hold of Kate’s address after all.

  I phoned her on her mobile straight away. She was in the car.

  ‘Mum, what are you doing? You can’t drive to London!’

  ‘Of course I can. I’m halfway there now! I went to the B. & B. – there was a young girl there helping out. I got Kate’s address from her. I’m going to see her now.’

  ‘But Mum—’

  She had hung up.

  I phoned her back. I was really worried now. ‘Mum, are you feeling OK?’ I asked when she answered. I meant, was she feeling OK mentally?

  ‘Of course!’

  ‘You don’t seem . . . normal.’

  She laughed. ‘I’m full of energy, Daniel. I’ve been a zombie for years on those tablets. For years I’ve been tranquillized on those things. Now I’m feeling everything at last!’

  I felt confused. Was she right? Was this normal? She didn’t seem very normal but then what was normal exactly?

  ‘Must go, darling.’ And she hung up again. I didn’t ring back this time. She hasn’t got a hands-free phone and I didn’t want her having an accident because she was using her mobile while she was driving. (Mum’s the one who’s always telling us how dangerous it is to drive and do anything else at the same time – like use your mobile, or unwrap a sweet or fiddle with the radio like Dad does a lot.)

  If only Dad was here now. I rang my aunt’s number to see if they were home from the hospital yet but there was no reply. Then I remembered it would only be about four o’clock in the morning over there, so even if they were home, they might all be asleep.

  I didn’t know what to do. It just wasn’t like Mum not to care that Martha needed collecting from her after-school club or that our tea needed making or that I had asked her to take me to the library tonight. It was like she had forgotten all about Martha and me. And I couldn’t believe what she had said about Martha not being the right baby. She had never said anything like that before. And all that stuff she had said about Kate having her baby . . . Mum must have got it wrong. She must have. I mean, babies being accidently swapped in hospital and getting sent home with the wrong parents . . . that stuff only ever happens in films, right? Or maybe occasionally in real life in places where they make babies out of test tubes a lot. And what had Mum meant about Kate knowing about it and wanting to keep Martha because she was royal?

  I kept turning everything over in my head as I walked to Martha’s school to collect her, but I still couldn’t make any sense out of it.

  As soon as she saw me, Martha wanted to know where Mum was, so I told her she had gone to London but she’d be back tonight.

  ‘But there has to be a grown-up to look after us.’ Martha frowned.

  ‘I’ll look after you,’ I said. ‘It’ll be cool. It’ll be like in that movie we saw at Uncle Robert’s, Home Alone!’

  Too late I remembered that Martha had got scared watching Home Alone and had to be taken out of the room by Mum when the bit with the na
sty burglars came on. Her face crumpled. ‘I don’t want you to look after me. I want Mummy.’

  ‘Well, Mummy’s not here. And even if she was—’ I stopped myself just in time. I’d been about to say that even if she was here, the way Mum was acting right now, she’d be more likely to invite scary burglars into our house rather than protect us from them.

  On the walk home we had to pass the park and Martha begged to have a go on the swings, so I said OK.

  ‘Hey!’ someone shouted to me. It was Abby. She had a friend with her – nobody I recognized from school.

  ‘Hi,’ I said, walking up to them.

  Abby’s friend was saying, ‘I can’t come back with you, Abby – I’ve got to get home.’ She had short red hair and a freckled face and she was wearing shorts and an England football shirt.

  Abby turned and smiled at me. ‘Hiya.’ She turned back to her friend who was looking me over now. ‘This is Daniel. He sits next to me at school. He’s just moved here and his mum’s our head teacher.’

  ‘Really?’ Abby’s friend looked like she found that horrific. ‘Poor you.’

  I nodded, flushing slightly. ‘Yeah,’ I agreed.

  Abby laughed. ‘This is Rachel. She’s being really boring and going home now so she’s not late for her tea.’ She looked at me. ‘But you can hang around with me for a bit, can’t you?’

  ‘Not really,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to look after my little sister. Mum’s gone out.’

  Abby didn’t seem phased. ‘No problem. We can all hang out together.’

  I still wasn’t sure. I mean, what if Dad phoned? But on the other hand, Dad wasn’t likely to phone since it was still night-time in New Zealand.

  Rachel said, ‘See you later. Michael says he’s gonna get you back for the other day, by the way.’

  ‘Fat chance!’ Abby grinned, waving her friend goodbye. ‘Michael’s her twin brother,’ she said to me. ‘I beat him scoring goals the other week. He’s a rubbish goalie.’