“Come on then!” I said, picking her up. “You can be my baby. Are you going to be a good girl?” I cooed, tickling her under the chin.
I was amazed how quickly I got into all the baby stuff. Before long it didn’t seem weird at all to be wandering round with a doll. But you know my friends. As soon as they saw me with the doll one Saturday, they thought I’d lost it completely.
“Francesca Thomas, have you gone mad?” screeched Kenny when she saw me carrying Izzy. (I called my doll Isobel, Izzy for short, because that’s what I wanted Mum to call the baby if she had a girl.)
“I’m just winding her after her feed!” I explained, patting Izzy’s back.
“I’ll wind you in a minute!” she yelled. “What are you like?”
No amount of explaining what I was doing would make her shut up. And the others weren’t much better. Even Fliss had a go at me.
“You look really silly, Frankie,” she hissed. “I wish you’d put that stupid doll down. It’s going to be really embarrassing if anyone sees us.”
I must admit that I did feel a bit of a loon taking it to the shops with us, but a deal is a deal. Mum said that I had to treat the doll just like a real baby. If I had to go to the shops then it would just have to come with me. I couldn’t leave Izzy at home, could I?
“Couldn’t you ask your mum to babysit?” asked Lyndz. Kenny rolled her eyes.
“I don’t think so. I’m supposed to be learning how to be a big sister,” I explained. “Mum already knows how to be a mum, so asking her to babysit a doll would be a bit pointless.”
“The whole thing’s pointless if you ask me,” grumbled Kenny. “Well, are we going to the shops or not?”
To start with, I made a sort of sling with my scarf and kept Izzy snuggled under my jacket. The December wind was pretty fierce and I didn’t want her to get cold.
“You are sad, sad, sad,” chanted Kenny, as I kept fussing beneath my jacket.
“At least no one can see the doll,” said Fliss. “You just look fat!”
“Thanks very much!” I said, feeling a bit miffed.
But it soon got uncomfortable having Izzy in one position so I started wriggling and jiggling, trying to move her about. It didn’t help that her arms and legs weren’t all sguidgy like a real baby’s. They were rigid plastic and kept digging into me.
“Don’t do that, Frankie!” Rosie reprimanded me. “You look as though you’ve got ants in your pants or something. People are looking at you.”
It was true. There were hundreds of people about doing their Christmas shopping, and I could sense that most of them were glancing at me and frowning.
“Maybe I should just show them Izzy,” I suggested, unzipping my jacket.
“Don’t do that!” the others all yelled together.
“That would be a major embarrassment for all of us,” hissed Kenny.
“Hey, what’s that poster?” Fliss suddenly shouted at the top of her voice. She was being so OTT, it was obvious that she was trying to divert our attention. She sort of galloped over to the noticeboard at the end of the high street. The rest of us cracked up and galloped after her. It wasn’t easy with a doll poking you in the chest with every step, I can tell you.
“It’s advertising a New Year’s Eve party at the church hall,” explained Fliss, standing in front of the poster. “Do you think we’ll be able to go?”
“Not a chance,” said Rosie. “My mum’s only ever let me stay up to see the New Year in once, and that was because I was sick.”
“I’m not sure I’d want to go anyway,” Kenny said. “It’ll be full of boring old duffers who we don’t even know. It’d be much better to have a New Year’s Eve party of our own.”
“Yes!” we all screamed. “Why don’t we? It’d be so cool!”
“We should try to organise a special New Year’s Eve sleepover,” I suggested. “I mean, we’re usually awake till well past midnight when we’re together anyway. It would be great to stay up properly. Everyone else’ll be up too, so who could object?”
We were so excited we started doing a little dance together on the pavement. And that’s when Izzy fell out of my jacket and bounced on to the ground.
“Oh no!” I screamed, picking her up. “I’ve killed her!”
“Erm, earth to Frankie!” hooted Kenny. “It is only a doll, you know!”
“But it’s supposed to be my baby sister,” I spluttered. “What if I do that to her?”
“Don’t be crazy!” shrieked Lyndz. “Do you think your parents would really let us loose in charge of their baby? I don’t think so!”
“But even so,” I wailed. “I was supposed to take care of Izzy and I haven’t. I’m going to be a useless sister!”
Fliss led me over to a nearby bench and we all sat down.
“You’re going to be a great sister, Frankie,” she reassured me. “That was just an accident when you forgot about the d… I mean, Izzy.”
“But what if I forget about the real baby when I’m supposed to be looking after it?” I asked.
“Believe me, you never forget when you’ve got a baby around,” Lyndz grinned. “They never stop crying. And they usually smell disgusting too!”
I was rocking Izzy in my arms and the others were all bending over her, just like she was real.
“Well I’ve seen everything now!” boomed a loud voice.
We looked up quickly, but with sinking hearts we already knew who it was. Why had the M&Ms picked that exact minute to walk past us?
“Aw, has Francesca got a baby? Diddums,” said Emma Hughes in a stupid voice.
“Does she like playing with her dolly then?” cooed Emma’s sidekick Emily Berryman.
“I always knew you were a big baby, Thomas!” cackled Emma. “I grew out of dolls when I was about four. You lot have never grown up, have you?”
Kenny was seething, I could sense it.
“Frankie’s taking part in some scientific research, if you must know,” she said in her weariest voice. “Not that you’d understand.”
“Oh right, that’s the first time I’ve heard playing with dolls called ‘scientific research’,” sneered Emily. “Why don’t you face it? You’re a load of little kids!”
They both screamed with laughter and tottered down the high street on their platform wedges.
“I don’t believe that!” Fliss had her head in her hands. “Of all the people to see us with that stupid doll!”
“They’ll never let us forget it,” moaned Rosie. “It’ll be all round the school on Monday!”
“Not if I’ve got anything to do with it,” fumed Kenny through gritted teeth.
And when Kenny spoke like that the rest of us knew that it meant trouble. Trouble with a capital T!