Miss Wrong and Mr Right(101)

‘It would set you back a fair penny my girl, you’d have to book two seats on the plane,’ said Mum. Micky deliberately shoved a pile of chips in her mouth.

‘Maybe you could go to Jamie’s Nan’s funeral!’ exclaimed Mum, as if it were the best pickup joint. ‘Did they give you an idea of when she’d be buried?’ said Mum.

‘Mum, you are unbelievable. What if I decide to be single? You can be single and happy. In fact that’s what I’m going to do, I’m going to abstain from men,’ I said.

‘Oh, wayhayy…’ said Dave.

‘She’s not saying she’s going to be a lesbian!’ said Micky slapping him on the arm.

‘Will you stop talking about lesbians, the window is open!’ said Mum diving over to close it. Just as she did Dad appeared knocking on the glass. Mum shrieked.

‘Dad’s head of the lesbian patrol,’ joked Micky. I laughed. Dad banged on the window.

‘Come on! Rihanna’s given birth,’ he said.





The kids were retrieved from playing Bears on the Stairs and we all went down to Rihanna’s pen. Mum hastily donned her llama midwife outfit, which consisted of a hairband to pull back her fringe, an old Alton Towers t-shirt, and a pair of yellow marigolds. But it wasn’t needed; a tiny furry llama was staggering around under Rihanna’s long legs, attempting to suckle.

‘I thought she wouldn’t be due for a few more weeks,’ said Dad. ‘She must have had it late this afternoon.’

‘They’re very quick at giving birth,’ said Mum. ‘Unlike poor Micky, how long were you with Downton and Abbey?’

‘Long enough,’ said Micky.

‘I know! You went in on the Monday and didn’t come back out til the Thursday night!’ said Mum. ‘It’s much easier for llamas – and they don’t tend to put on much baby weight.’

‘Now I have to be a llama,’ said Micky.

‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ I asked.

‘It’s a girl,’ said Dad with as much pride on his face as when we announced Micky’s children.

Rihanna put her nose down and made a low humming noise to her tiny baby. It was so peaceful and sweet.

‘What should we call her?’ asked Dad. The kids, who were all standing in awe, shot their hands in the air as if they were at school.

‘We have a great name,’ said Downton, his eyes shining under his little mop of dark hair. ‘What was it, Abbey?’ he added.

‘Llama Del Ray,’ said Abbey proudly. We all laughed.

‘That is the best name ever,’ I said. ‘You have to call her Llama Del Ray.’

‘To think, Nat, you never made it for any of my kids’ births, but you’re here for the llama,’ said Micky.

‘Micky,’ I said. ‘Can I talk to you?’

We moved away from the others, cooing over Llama Del Ray in the pen. Micky flicked her hair back from her face and looked ready for a fight.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said.

‘What for?’ asked Micky, surprised.

‘For being a crap sister, for buggering off to London all those years ago and not looking back…’ I took her hand. ‘We don’t know each other really anymore, do we?’

‘I missed you, I miss you,’ said Micky, her eyes beginning to water.

‘I miss you too, and I’ve been so stupid, I only just realised it. And I’m sorry I haven’t been there for your kids, to see them grow up.’

‘They’ve still got plenty of growing up to do… noisy little fuckers,’ grinned Micky. ‘You should come and stay with us, please. After we’ve been to see your play.’

‘You’re going to come and see the play?’ I said.

‘If you promise to come and stay…’ said Micky with a wry smile.

‘Deal,’ I said. She gave me a huge hug. I hugged her back, but my arms didn’t quite reach round her.

‘Jeez, I think I am going to lose weight, just a little,’ said Micky. ‘But don’t tell Mum, I’ll never hear the end of it!’





I stayed the night at the farm, in my old attic bedroom. As I lay in bed I could see the night sky through the skylight above. It was clear and the stars were bright. It had been such a strange long day. I’d made peace with my sister, and perhaps some sort of peace with Jamie, but I had been there when his Nan had died.

And then the day had turned on its head, and I’d had the most funny, wonderful evening with my family, topped off with the birth of Llama Del Ray.

The parts of the day now seemed miles apart. I had started this morning beaten and battered, with a sense of impending doom, and now I felt profoundly changed. I realised my life was full and rich. I had a career I loved, I had friends and family. I had nieces and nephews, and Godchildren in Micky’s and Sharon’s kids, and back home I had a very cool lodger in the shape of Gran. And just maybe, with a little more fairy dust blown in my direction, Macbeth could end up turning into something truly special.