Page 22 of The Secret Life of Beatrice Alright

‘Not today, chickpea, you’re sick, remember?’

Ellie holds her tummy as if she’s checking if anything is going to happen. Then she shakes her head, smiles and says, ‘All better.’

Orangey-grey light shines through the curtains from the streetlamp outside the window and I can tell the sun still isn’t up. I glance at Ellie, who is bursting with so much energy I can see her battling the urge to jump on the bed again. Thankfully, whatever bug she had is out of her system. If we hurry, we could easily make it on time. But Alannah’s words are ringing in my ears. ‘I’m sick of ringing parents…fining system…home for three days.’

I’m not sure which is worse. Three days without wages or the wrath of Alannah and a potential fine. And that’s when I have an idea. A probably terrible, most definitely a bit risky, almost certainly stupid idea. But if the past few day have taught me anything, it’s that Ellie and I are alone in this life and we have to figure things out and find solutions where we can. So, I tell Ellie to get dressed and I rummage down the bottom of my wardrobe to find the colouring book and colouring pencils I bought for Christmas. The plastic Smyths bag rustles and I pull it out and stuff it into my handbag. Then I dress in my uniform and stick a packet of pop tarts in the toaster. Ellie and I put on our coats, the toaster pings, and with a strawberry pop tart each we leave the apartment.

Ellie attempts to turn left at the end of our road, as we usually do for crèche, but I hold her hand a little tighter and say, ‘Not today. Today we are going this way.’

I hadn’t taken into consideration how far a walk to the hospital is for little legs, and after a while Ellie complains that her feet hurt. I carry her for as long as I am able and then, refreshed, she walks again for a while. We repeat the pattern of carrying and walking until we finally reach the main doors of StHelen’s.

Ellie’s eyes widen with delight. ‘Is this your work?’

‘Yup,’ I say proudly as if I run the hospital, rather than clean a handful of upstairs wards.

‘It’s very nice,’ she tells me, then she covers her ears as an ambulance comes into the bay with its siren blaring. ‘And noisy.’

‘C’mon. Let’s get inside,’ I say, squeezing her hand.

Órlaith is chatting to someone at reception and doesn’t notice us pass. I guide us into the tuck shop and, with some coins that I was saving for the vending machine for lunch, I buy a lollipop and a carton of Ribena. And then I lead us into the lift and up to the fourth floor where I work.

When the lift dings and the doors open, I peek my head out. The corridor is silent and the storage closet is in view. I grip Ellie’s hand so tightly she winces and yelps.

‘Sorry. Oops, sorry,’ I say, loosening my grip immediately. ‘But we’ve gotta hurry. In here. Quick, quick, in here.’

I guide us into the closet unnoticed and flick on the light.

Ellie scrunches her nose. ‘Ew. It smells funny in here.’

I rarely notice the smell of bleach and surface polish any more, but I agree it is a bit stinky. I move some mops and buckets and put my back into shifting the industrial floor polisher aside to make some room in the middle of the squashed closet. I take off my cardigan and place it on the floor andencourage Ellie to sit down on it. She eyes me, unsure, but drops onto her bum and crosses her legs as she looks up at me.

‘I have a surprise,’ I tell her, and before I get another word out I can see her face light up with anticipation.

‘We’re not going to crèche today.’

Her face falls.

‘Wait. Wait. We’re doing something even better.’

I reach into my bag and pull out the colouring book and bright pencils.

Ellie squeals with joy and I quickly place my finger over my lips and whisper, ‘Shh.’

I pass her the book and pencils and she flicks through the pages, stopping when she comes to the outline of a fairy riding a unicorn and begging to be coloured in. Next, I give her the lollipop and Ribena.

‘You know how you love to play hide-and-seek?’

She scrunches her face, not so sure she does.

‘Well, this is the bestest, most fun game of hide-and-seek. You get to stay in here and colour your pictures and enjoy your treats.’

She nods, liking the sound of this game.

‘But you must, must, must not come out, okay? That’s how you play. You have to stay hiding and then you win.’

No one ever checks the storage room except me. I am certain no one will find Ellie in here.

‘Okay, Mammy,’ she says, then she scoots over and makes room for me in the space between her and the sweeping brushes.

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