Love Thy Neighbour *editing*

"Oh my Go- Auntie Francis!"

By the time Saturday rolled around, I was more than happy just to give up all together. For one thing, my morning sickness had just seemed to get worse, which in turn, made me grumpier and more liable to snap at...anyone. It didn't matter what they did, it was usually annoying enough for me to get a moan in. Mum had taken just to speak to me about trivial things; what would you life for dinner? Is there anything I can get you from the shop? I felt bad but I wasn't prepared to make my behaviour any better. As for Tommy, he was more concerned with the fact that he was going to have to give up his bedroom in aid of Auntie Francis' imminent arrival.

"But why?" he moaned, throwing his spoon across the table. "Why must I give up my room?" I smiled at him. Tommy spoke like he had swallowed the dictionary. He was eight years old and he had a better vocabulary than most of the people in my school. Mind you, it wasn't particularly hard...

"Because Auntie Francis needs a room of her own," mum replied, standing at the sink. She was watching the Gallagher household, probably thinking that, in less than four hours, we would be in there again, mixing with the whole of their brood. Note the sarcasm when I say I could hardly wait.

"Why can't she have Evie's?" he shouted, furious at the unfairness of it all.

"Because Evie needs her space," mum said delicately. And because mum wouldn't be able to share with Auntie Francis for one night, let alone the rest of the month. I just looked down at my cereal, stirring it around the bowl.

"This isn't right!" Tommy exclaimed, banging his fist on the table. "Where am I going to sleep?"

"On my floor," she sighed.

"But-"

"You're sleeping there and that's that!" mum snapped. I heard something smash in the sink. Tommy shut up and tried to get his spoon from the opposite side of the table. Well that was a totally unexpected turn of events - not.

"I hate you," Tommy hissed to me, his eyebrows knitted together in his signature scowl. My eyes widened and hoped to God that he wasn't about to start issuing death threats again; the last he head done that, I had woken up with cat food in my bed. Eurgh, cat food; even thinking about the stuff made me want to throw up.

"Why?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"This is all your fault." My heart began to race; I hadn't told Tommy that I was pregnant yet so I couldn't put my finger on what he was talking about. I was trying to avoid being read the riot act by my eight year old brother for as long as I could because it would get messy.

"Falling in hungover in the morning, fighting with mum; no wonder she's called in Auntie Francis for backup," he growled at me. I leaned back in my chair, relieved that he didn't already know. At least he had stopped listening at doors. After finding out that the reason the goldfish never seemed to die, he had lost all desire to know everyone's business.

"Yeah, that's it," I agreed. "This all my fault."

"I'm glad you know," he said snootily, before getting up from his chair and leaving the room. This was going to be the longest month of my life.

"You're going to have to tell him," mum said quietly. "He's not stupid."

Tommy was anything but stupid. I had always thought he registered somewhere on the autistic spectrum because he never seemed to care about what he was saying to anyone. But he was incredibly bright.

"I know," I muttered. "I will." Eventually.

I was saved from her glares by the doorbell ringing. I leapt to my feet and exited the room, escaping the frosty atmosphere. I was surprised to see through the peep-hole, that the ringer was Niall's mother. I opened the door, hoping that she wasn't about to berate me for getting pregnant; I hadn't seen her since Niall had been to my window.