Lifesaving for Beginners

sure that neither of them has read a popular-fiction book in their lives, both of them have heard of Killian Kobain. The body of a hermit was found in a cave in Malawi recently and there was nothing in the cave apart from his body, a bow and arrow, the hide of a rhinoceros and a copy of The Lost Girl , which was the first Darker book to be made into a film.
    I don’t say anything but I smile. I can’t help it.
    It’s around this time that I realise that the happiness I feel is not all about Ed. Not just about Ed. It’s like a curtain is being pulled open, and when it opens all the way you can see someone standing there and it turns out to be me. I’m standing there. I’m there for anyone to see. I’m as plain as the nose on your face.

 
    I’ve never been in Scotland for Christmas before. I’ve never been anywhere for Christmas before. Except home, I mean. It looks like Christmas in Scotland, on account of the snow. Me and Ant and Adrian and Dad build an igloo. Faith told Adrian that if he was coming to Scotland, he’d have to make an effort. She made him swear. He said, ‘Cross my heart and hope that fat bastard keels over of a heart attack and dies.’
    Faith said, ‘ADRIAN!’
    Adrian said, ‘I’m joking, sis, take it easy.’ He winks at me and smiles so I’m pretty sure he really is joking.
    Faith makes Ant promise not to call Celia fat, or an adulteress or a home-wrecker or a gold-digger.
    It’s warm inside the igloo. Ant said it’s because air gets trapped inside the snow and acts like an insulator. I say, ‘What about our body heat?’ and he says, ‘I was just getting to that.’ Afterwards, we build a snowman. Except Adrian puts two snowballs on the snowman’s chest and says it’s a snowwoman and Dad says, ‘Grow up,’ and Adrian throws a snowball at Dad’s head and then there’s a big snowball fight, and Faith says I’m the only one with any sense because I was the best at dodging the snowballs so my clothes aren’t as wet as everyone else’s.
    Celia hasn’t had the baby yet. She’s gone to the hospital three times so far to have the baby but then she came home. Dad calls them false alarms, but not in front of Celia anymore.
    Christmas is the day after tomorrow. It’s turning out to be not so bad. There’s tonnes of food in the fridge, for a start. The house is dead neat, even though it’s huge. Dad is good at being neat and tidy now. When Celia’s not in the hospital having a false alarm, she gets really mad if there’s a buttery knife on the worktop or if someone has forgotten to flush the toilet. When she notices something like that, she puts her hands on the bottom of her belly as if it’s about to fall off and she shouts, ‘HAMISH,’ which happens to be Dad’s name, and then Dad has to come and tidy up the mess or flush the toilet and make her a cup of raspberry tea and massage her back until she tells him to stop. Celia’s belly is way bigger than Dad’s now.
    Celia has a birthing pool. It’s in a big room upstairs that has nothing in it except a really long mirror attached to the wall. The birthing pool looks a bit like a paddling pool. Celia says the room will be her office after the baby comes out but, as far as I know, Celia doesn’t have a job anymore. Not since she started being Dad’s girlfriend.
    Me and Faith took the train to Scotland yesterday. Ant and Adrian got a lift from London with one of their friends who was driving home to Edinburgh for Christmas. Rob said he’d drive us but Faith said she needed to think about things. I don’t know why she couldn’t think about things in Rob’s van. Maybe it’s because the heater is broken. It’s hard to think when you’re freezing cold. I know because the radiator was broken in our classroom last month and Miss Williams said we all had brain-freeze because no one could do the mathematical patterns.
    The train was much longer than the one we take to London. Nearly as long as the Hogwarts Express, I reckon. I sat beside the window and Faith said, ‘Order whatever you like,’ when the man came with the trolley. I got crisps and a Mars Duo and a can of Coke and a packet of Starburst. The seats were dead comfy. Faith fell asleep. I didn’t because there was too much to see out of the window.
    I like the way the world whizzes by when you’re on a train and there are no traffic jams so you can just keep on going. And I don’t have to ask if we’re there yet because I can tell myself, from looking