The World's Worst Mothers (9 page)

Anna 08, who was looking after two boys in Earth Mother's house, was back in communication. It was just that the boys had put cucumber slices on her eyelids. Their mother did that, apparently, and it was supposed to be good for you. Anyway, it didn't do Anna 08 any harm.

But Kruschke had decided, all the same, to monitor his creations more closely. He would be quite happy if that meant he'd have to give up his workshop. In any case, it was as pointless to try to teach women anything about computers as it would be to try to teach a cow to dance on a milking pail. How long was it going to take Wohlfarth to realise that these women were hopeless cases? They were dreadful, and they would remain dreadful.

His Annas, however, were perfect. Yes, he needed to build in a few little improvements, but they were just teething problems. When he saw a constantly spinning image on one of his screens, he wrote a note to himself:
Adjust dance mode.
He had programmed in a few standard dances, just in case. Waltzes were all very well, but what Anna 07 had been doing over the last few days looked a bit dangerous. A module might overheat and important sensors could fail.

Who was Anna 07 with anyway? Oh, yes, Bruno, the would-be boxer. Maybe he was trying to use his Anna as a sparring partner? Kruschke peered more closely. There was the boy. He wasn't wearing boxing gloves, though … And now the camera was turning all by itself, and Kruschke could see a wardrobe flying by, and the sofa, the television. The boy was definitely holding something in his hand. But what was it? The image was spinning faster and faster, and suddenly it went black. Anna 07 must have closed her eyes while dancing. Kruschke was very proud of himself for building in this life-like function.

He zapped again and this time he saw a small boy who was shouting something, his face red with rage. Anna 13 was approaching him, and he was backing off with terror in his eyes. Was that not Sophie's little brother? She hadn't been lying, then, in her questionnaire. He was a right pain in the neck. Now he was just dropping a glass of milk that he had in his hand, and then he ran to the door. And now here came Sophie, who pulled him out of the kitchen and shut the door. The next thing Kruschke saw were the perfectly formed hands of his Anna holding a cloth under a tap. Well, he hoped Sophie would give her little brother a smack on the bottom.

He'd just check to see if the mothers on the beach were getting up to any mischief. Kruschke zapped to a camera whose existence was unknown to everyone but himself. It was in a model aeroplane which swooped through the air, camouflaged as a harmless toy. It was just as well that he couldn't hear the endless nagging and screeching of the mothers – of course, they were fighting again. Earth Mother was just shaking a bucketful of slithery seaweed all over Clingy Mum's feet.

The flying camera had a range of only a few hundred metres, but that was enough to see that one mother was going away from her sandcastle, all the time looking around her anxiously, and then she went running towards the fence. He knew her immediately by her red hair: Emily's mother. Who else? This woman caused nothing but trouble. While all the other mothers were busily building their sandcastles, she was actually trying to sneak away.

Well, my dear,
thought Kruschke, watching how Susie came to a halt in front of the fence,
you won't get very far.
The end of the fence was in the water. It would not be possible to get around it without getting wet for several hours yet, at low tide. But Snivelling Susie very likely didn't know that. None of these women knew anything about tides. Which was just as well.

Snivelling Susie dropped her shoulders, resigned, and trotted back to the others. He'd have to keep an eye on this one. Not only was she the worst student of all, but now it seemed that she was trying to leg it. Of course, it wouldn't be easy to escape from the island. Even if she managed to get away from the area around the factory, she wouldn't get far. There was only one boat a day to the mainland.

But he'd have to watch her all the same. She could, after all, let the cat out of the bag to the inhabitants, that WIMI wasn't a school for models at all, but a school for mothers. There were enough rumours already. It had started with the food. The amounts that the Lührsens were asked to deliver every day didn't square up with a model school. Kruschke gave a soft snort. What a waste of money! Wohlfarth would have been better off investing it in the development and production of Kruschke's dolls. He was almost at the stage where they could go into full production with them.

And not only ones like Anna. He had at least four different models in mind. Then husbands could just order them from the catalogue to be their wives or mothers for their children. Some people would prefer the motherly models; others something a bit more sporty. And, at an extra cost, there would be mothers with special talents. Ones that could stand on their heads or play the harp or knot carpets. In time and with luck he would be able to achieve something that no inventor of artificial humans before him had ever managed: he would produce a doll with feelings. Not one that could laugh or cry at the press of a button, but a doll with a soul. But this much was clear: she would belong only to him.

Susie was standing by her sandcastle. A wave was just lapping around the edges and was knocking it down. A second wave tore another piece away and before long there was nothing left of the castle but little damp piles of sand. Irresolutely, she picked up the spade but then she dropped it again. There was nothing left to save. The other mothers were good at digging and they smoothed the surrounding walls with damp hands. One was decorating her sandcastle with shells. She was writing a message:
For my dearest lo…

Sven-Ole had bent over to pick up a piece of wood. Nobody was taking any notice of Susie. It was a good opportunity.

I want to go home,
thought Emily's mother.
I want to get away from here.
But she could get no further than the fence. She would have to try it from the landward side. She ran quickly to the dunes and scrambled up one of them. Marram grass cut her hands and loose sand slipped under her feet. She glanced back at the beach, but nobody seemed to have noticed that she had disappeared, they were all so busy with their castles. Just another little bit and she would have clambered up the dune and once she'd got over it, nobody would be able to see her any more. At last! Susie wiped her hands on her trousers.

‘Well, well! Finished your sandcastle already?' intoned a voice. Susie got a fright but breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Kruschke's head appearing from behind a dune. He didn't look too appealing, with his squint, but he was harmless enough.

He struggled towards her through the dunes. ‘What are you doing here?'

‘Call of nature,' said Susie with a grin.

‘You're not allowed to go to the toilet during class time. That's what breaks are for,' replied Kruschke, wiping the sweat off his brow.

‘But I just have to go,' she cried, and in fact it was true.

‘In that case, I will accompany you to the school,' said Kruschke. ‘Come with me.'

I wouldn't have got very far anyway,
Susie thought, as she followed Kruschke. As soon as you climbed one dune, another appeared from behind it. And now the factory could be seen. From here, the barred windows on the ground floor looked very threatening. She was suddenly afraid.

‘I want to go home,' said Susie, coming to a standstill. ‘You can't keep me here.'

Kruschke turned to face her. ‘No problem. However, there isn't another ship today. You'll have to wait till tomorrow. We'll go and see the boss and you can tell him yourself.'

Susie breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't thought it would be so easy.

Wohlfarth did not seem surprised to see her. On the table in front of him lay a folder with the name Emily on it. On a screen behind him, the motto ‘Make your child happy and you save the world' glowed in bright red letters.

‘What's this about, Kruschke?' asked Wohlfarth.

‘Snivelling Susie wants to leave. She wants to go home.'

‘To my daughter,' said Susie stoutly. ‘I'm sure she misses me. And I miss her.'

‘Right; you miss each other. Well, let's see then. Have you got the DVD, Kruschke?'

Kruschke slid a disc into a DVD player and picked up a remote control. The motto disappeared from the screen, and in its place came a wavering image. A girl with a pageboy hairstyle appeared. At first, the face looked irritated, but then she smiled and stretched out her arms.

‘Emmykins! What have you …' cried Susie, but then she clapped her hand over her mouth as Wohlfarth gestured to her to be quiet.

The girl was taking a white blouse from someone. A perfectly ironed blouse with red heart-shaped buttons and ruffles at the neck and sleeves. She held the blouse up to her body and beamed.

Susie knew this blouse only too well. Emily had got it as a present from her father. Impractical to the power of ten! It would take hours to iron all those ruffles and pleats. Which is why Susie hadn't ever done it.

Emily's mouth opened. You couldn't hear what she was saying, but Susie read her lips: ‘Thank you. Thank you very much. My mother would never have done that for me.'

Kruschke pressed the remote control. The screen went blank and then the fiery red letters appeared again

‘Well, Susie. What have you got to say to that?' asked Wohlfarth in a friendly voice.

Emily's mother said nothing.

‘Do you really think your daughter is missing you?' Wohlfarth's tone had got sharper. ‘The daughter that wrote this about you …' He started rooting in the folder.

‘No, please don't,' whispered Susie. ‘Don't read it out.'

‘Here we are,' said Wohlfarth, raising his voice. ‘Now, listen to this. She writes, “My mother is always getting into scrapes. And then she gets into a bad mood because of it. I do a lot of things for myself. I go shopping, I cook my own food, hang up the clothes. Sometimes she gets these mad ideas. She wakes me up in the middle of the night because she has finally managed to make sushi. But I want to sleep, and anyway I don't like raw fish. I wish she could just be normal. I wish she'd wash my things at the right temperature, iron the blouse that Dad gave me.”'

Wohlfarth broke off. ‘Do you still want to go home? To go back as the dreadful mother you were before you got here? Or would you prefer to stay here and learn how to make your child happy?' He pointed at the screen.

‘Make your child happy and you save the world,' Susie read out tonelessly.

Wohlfarth leafed through the folder again.

‘Unfortunately, your grades do not look good. In handicrafts, you've got an E. In all the other subjects, you've just scraped a D.' He shook his head. ‘If you go on like this, you'll have to repeat.'

‘What do you mean, repeat?' asked Susie in dismay.

‘You'll find out soon enough,' said Wohlfarth, closing the folder.

The atmosphere that evening was almost festive in Wohlfarth's Institute for Mother Improvement. All the students had got good grades in sandcastle building – except, of course, Snivelling Susie – and the sea air did the rest. The mothers helped themselves with great gusto at supper.

‘Hey, you've already had two helpings of gherkins and I haven't even had one yet.'

‘So? I didn't notice you leaving much of the ham for anyone else.'

‘I thought you didn't want any.'

‘That isn't the point. It's the principle of the thing.'

Susie took no part in these exchanges. She sat slightly apart, crumbling a piece of bread. She kept seeing Emily's face, the way she had beamed into the camera. Funny that the childminder had filmed the scene, but presumably it had been done to show how much better Emily was doing without her mother.

Susie sighed out loud and was rewarded with withering looks from the others.

‘Have you heard? She tried to escape!' Bruno's mother whispered to Sophie's mother.

‘I just can't understand it,' said she. ‘I have to say, I'm delighted that someone else is having to look after my two fighting brats for a change.'

The suspicious mother with the pointy nose leant across the table and said, ‘I'd love to know what kind of mischief my daughter is getting up to right now.'

‘Ellen, Marie, Katherine, silence at table. Mr Wohlfarth is about to read something aloud.'

‘Oh God, not more out of his diary,' whispered Sophie's mother. ‘I can't stand that drivel.'

Bruno's mother nodded in agreement.

Wohlfarth took no notice of these rumblings. He stood up and cleared his throat.

‘This entry is from 23 June,' he said, and began to read. ‘It was very hot today, and we were sent home early because of the temperature. As soon as I came home from school, I went out into the garden. Someone had filled the old zinc bath with water in the morning, and by now it had got lovely and warm. So, into the tub with me. Peter from next door climbed over the fence. We splashed each other and we played the sinking of the
Titanic,
and in the end we both toppled over, bath-tub and all. Mummy brought towels, then, and rubbed us dry. Then we were allowed to sit in the swinging seat, and she brought us home-made lemonade and freshly baked waffles. Peter was afraid, because he'd torn his trousers when he climbed the fence. Mummy comforted him and darned it so well that you'd need a magnifying glass to see the tear.'

Sophie's mother rolled her eyes and Bruno's mother winked at her.

‘Must have been a right supermum.'

‘Pssst!' hissed Ramona Bottle crossly, before turning back to look at Wohlfarth. She hung on every word that came out of his mouth.

The poor thing is in love with him,
thought Susie.
And he doesn't even realise it.

‘And that evening, I went to bed tired but happy. Mum said my night prayers with me, and told me how much she loves me. “I love you too Mummy,” I s –'

Wohlfarth broke off and wiped his eyes.

Clingy Mum was sobbing out loud. ‘That's what my Timmy says to me. I miss him so much.'

‘Just think, Christa, how much more your Timmy will love you when you have graduated from WIMI,' said Wohlfarth. ‘And in case you are wondering how you are doing, I have an interim report here.'

Ramona Bottle passed him a list. He began with Sophie's mother.

‘Marie, you are doing well in subjects that have to do with small children. You are the best at building sandcastles and singing lullabies. However, your performance in “Musical tastes of thirteen- to fifteen-year-olds” leaves a lot to be desired.'

‘I can't tell one of these bands from another,' said Sophie's mother sheepishly. ‘The music is always the same: loud and tuneless.'

‘With that kind of attitude, you won't make much progress,' said Wohlfarth and turned to Bruno's mother. ‘And as for you, Katherine, you have made a good job of learning the rules of boxing. Your son will be delighted. And even Christa has learnt from the course “Letting go made easy” that you can't mother your child for ever, but there is still plenty of room for improvement. Liebgard gets a special commendation. For the first time in her life, she has cooked a sausage that was not made of tofu.'

Earth Mother smiled proudly.

Wohlfarth went on recounting who had done especially well in what. Then his expression became serious. ‘But now we come to something that is not so nice.'

Everyone turned to look at Emily's mother.

‘Susie, I haven't a good word to say about you today.'

‘Is she going to be thrown out?' asked Sophie's mother, her eyes shining.

‘This is not reality TV,' insisted Wohlfarth. ‘Having brought you all here, I have taken on a certain responsibility. Nobody will leave this school without a WIMI certificate.'

A hand went up. ‘What exactly does that mean?'

‘Well, the certificate confirms that you have attended the school. There are three levels of certification. The lowest is “completed”, the next is “successfully completed” and the crowning glory would be if some of you left the school with “completed with flying colours”.

‘Completed will do me. Nobody asks afterwards if you got good or very good,' said Earth Mother.

‘I think we should aim a bit higher than that. Otherwise, the whole thing won't do us any good,' said Sophie's mother haughtily.

‘But suppose someone fails?' asked Clingy Mum.

‘If anyone does not pass the exam, she will have to stay on and take the course again.'

‘No!' shouted Susie, her eyes wide with horror. ‘Please don't make me. I couldn't bear it.'

Sophie sat on Nicholas's bed.

‘Shall I read you the story of Jemima Puddle-Duck again?' she asked.

Nicholas shook his head. The tears kept streaming down his face.

‘Or maybe
The Tale of Little Pig Robinson?'

More head-shaking.

Sophie couldn't think what to do next. Beatrix Potter's stories had always been a kind of secret weapon to use when Nicholas was sick or distressed. If they didn't help, what was to be done?

The worst thing was that he would hardly speak any more. For the first few days he'd roared, ‘Where's Mama? When is she coming home? I want my mama!' But now he just wept quietly.

‘It'll all be fine,' George had said that morning as he said goodbye to them. He was flying to Hawaii for a week to introduce a new medication that helped prevent hair loss in older women to a group of doctors who specialised in women's health. ‘Anna will look after you well, I'm quite sure.'

It was true that Aunt Anna looked after them. She cleaned and did the washing and the fridge was always full. Since the unfortunate business with the cat food, she hadn't made any more mistakes. All the same, it was hard to feel close to her. Sophie had tried to draw her out with conversation. She asked her which bands she liked, whether she had a boyfriend, where she went on holidays.

‘My favourite song is “Yesterday” by the Beatles. I have no boyfriend at the moment. I'm waiting for Mr Right to come along. He has to have brown hair. I like brown hair. I like to go to the seaside on my holidays. But the mountains are also nice. You can go walking. Walking is very healthy. Do you like hill-walking?' Aunt Anna had replied, and somehow it sounded as if she'd learnt it off by heart.

Sophie shut the book.

‘Well, then, sleep tight.'

She was just about to stroke Nicholas on the cheek, but he turned away and hid his face in the pillow.

‘Good night,' said Sophie softly and turned off the light.

She felt sorry for the poor little fellow. She surprised herself, how quickly her anger at him had disappeared. She went into the living room. There was a whole evening of comedy on one of the pay channels that her mother was so opposed to. She was planning a cosy evening with a packet of crisps. Everything really was much easier when her mother wasn't there. It was a pity that Nicholas didn't see it that way, but then he was only little.

Sophie turned the television on. Her favourite comedian was telling really nasty blonde jokes. Fabulous! Sophie shook with laughter.

‘Come here, Aunt Anna, you have to hear this,' she called. Too late, she remembered that Aunt Anna was herself a blonde.

But Aunt Anna also found the jokes funny. Every time Sophie laughed, she laughed too.

‘Oh, it's so funny. I've never laughed so much.'

Sophie stopped laughing. Aunt Anna's reaction came across as false, somehow, but maybe she was just trying to be nice. Her mother had always just pulled a face and said, ‘I'm sorry, but that's just too vulgar for me.' If she could see her daughter now, chomping crisps in front of the television, she'd probably have a heart attack.

The very thought made Sophie burst out laughing. Aunt Anna followed suit. There was a commercial break on the television. An ad for sanitary products was on, and it was anything but funny. Sophie laughed louder and Aunt Anna laughed too. This was just not normal. Aunt Anna was bending forward, just like Sophie, as if she had a stitch from laughing. Her hair fell forward over her face, revealing the nape of her neck. What was that horrible scar? Sophie looked more closely. It wasn't a scar. It was …

Aunt Anna raised her head and looked at Sophie. Sophie looked her right in the eye for the first time. They were a lovely shade of china blue, with a black ring around the iris.

‘I'm going to bed,' said Sophie.

She stood up, turned off the television and scrunched up the empty crisp bag. She felt a bit sick. She didn't know whether it was the crisps that had done it or something else.

‘Good night,' said Aunt Anna. ‘I'm going to sleep too.'

Aunt Anna slept in Sophie's mother's room. Sophie's mother and George had separate rooms because he often came home very late at night from his travels and he didn't want to disturb her. But Sophie suspected that the real reason was that he didn't want to sleep with her because Nicholas was always cuddled up with her. That was why he was so thrilled that, ever since Aunt Anna had come, Nicholas had started sleeping in his own room.

Sophie couldn't sleep. She kept seeing this extraordinary mark on Aunt Anna's neck. It reminded her of something – but what could it be?

At some point she nodded off and had a terrible nightmare. A giant baby doll in a pink Babygro came crawling towards her, stared at her and opened her toothless mouth. The mouth grew bigger and bigger, a huge black maw towards which Sophie felt herself being drawn, as if by magic. Before she disappeared into it, she woke up, her heart thumping. She knew now what the mark reminded her of.

She hadn't slept long. She could see on the alarm clock that it was just after ten. Sophie turned on the light and got out of bed. She got her chair and pushed it over to the wardrobe. Then she stood up on it and hauled down a box of her old toys. There it was: the doll Sophie had got from her mother on her seventh birthday.

Her mother had been pregnant at the time, and the doll was supposed to be some sort of consolation. But this doll couldn't console anyone. It was too gruesome for that. It looked spookily like a real baby. If you took its left hand, its eyes shone. If you took its right hand, it said ‘Mama!' It wet its nappy and then started to grizzle. If you tickled it on the tummy, it giggled. If Sophie's mother thought that this was a way to prepare her for what it would be like to have a baby in the house, she must have been disappointed. Sophie had treated the baby doll extremely badly. She had put all its clothes on her teddy.

Sophie lifted the doll out of the box now. Its skin, which was supposed to be lifelike but always felt a bit slithery to the touch, had gone grey with dust. She turned the doll over. Under the doll's hair two Ws were stamped on its neck. Exactly the same mark that Aunt Anna had on
her
neck. A terrible suspicion was starting to sprout in Sophie's mind. But it wasn't possible – or was it?

Her bedroom door was being slowly opened. Terrified, Sophie pressed the doll to her body. Nicholas tiptoed into the room.

‘Can't sleep, Sofa.'

Sophie put the baby doll back in the box.

‘She looks spooky,' said Nicholas. ‘Like Aunt Anna.'

‘Get into my bed,' said Sophie, putting the box back on top of the wardrobe.

She sat down at the desk and fished out her laptop.

‘Just have to do a quick search for something.'

It took longer than she'd thought. As she turned the computer off, late in the night, she'd calmed down. She found it comforting to know that she wasn't the only person experiencing the phenomenon that was Aunt Anna.