‘Listen Miriam do you want me to drive you to the fucking ‘ospicle or what?!’

‘Of course I do you silly bitch it’ll take forever in an ambulance and… ooft… unh shit that hurts!’

‘Well gimmie your bloody keys then, where are they?’

‘Ugh… uhf… the dish on the console table where the phone is. Ah, hell that’s… unnhhh!’

My sister Miriam had gone in to labour, just like my mother and I predicted earlier on that evening. I knew when it had all started and teleported to my sisters house instantly, to find her propping herself up at the kitchen counter, grunting and huffing; stood in the liquid of her then just ruptured membrane. I had already managed to call the maternity ward at the hospital to let them know my sister had started labour and we were on our way. She had been advised to go in as they predicted the baby may be quite large and complications could arise, due to Miriam not being all that big and having a narrow pelvis.

Thankfully because she was so organised, she had all relevant phone numbers beside her landline phone, a go-bag all ready including changes of clothes; nighties, clean underwear and her make-up and toiletries bags. The one thing I wasn’t expecting was a roll of black bin bags, which she threw at my head as I was loading her go-bag in to the back seat of her car, a rather nice midnight blue BMW 5 series that her other half Michael had bought her earlier in the year.

‘Ow! What the feck are these for!?’ I screeched at Miriam as she locked the front door behind her and waddled the short distance through her front garden. She lived in a large, but modest semi-detached house that would’ve been worth a huge amount of money if they sold it now. The street lights illuminated the path just enough for my sister to see where she was going. She huffed and puffed her way over and motioned for me to unravel the roll of bin bags.

‘Cover the passenger seat, I’m not ruining the bloody upholstery with baby juice.’

‘Jesus Christ Miriam you’ve got a way with words I bloody tell ya.’ I told my sister as I shook my head, trying not to laugh. ‘And here I was thinking you were the prim and proper one of us bunch.’ I carried on talking as I laid the black bin bags over the passenger seat as best I could, while my sister leant against her car doing some breathing exercises.

‘Well I do, have a baby literally... coming out of me right now.’ Miriam retorted in between deep breaths. I helped her in to the car when she was happy with the bin bag upholstery situation. Thankfully at this time of night, it didn’t take long to get to the nearest hospital. Plus everything was ready at the maternity ward when we did arrive and even then, it seemed to be pretty quiet there too. I didn’t say it out loud though, they can be pretty superstitious about the word “quiet” in hospitals.

‘When did your contractions actually start?’ I asked my sister when she eventually got settled. We managed to get her in to a more comfortable and clean nightie and some squishy slippers, so she could at least pace about the room she was in in a bit more comfort.

‘Err I think just shortly after we had our tea.’ Miriam started as she did a bit of light stretching.

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‘And you didn’t think to say anything?’ I replied. I couldn’t just sit there watching her pace and stretch, so I got up and stretched along with her. It was gonna be a long night.

‘Well no. I thought it was just trapped wind again. I took two Rennies and everything.’

‘Ah Jesus Christ Miriam.’ I chuckled.

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‘My mum, thought I was a fart?’

Auntie M sat grinning at me across from her side of the breakfast bar over a cheeseboard she had assembled. I have no idea how we got on to the subject, but she had started talking about when I was born. I was born in the North; Tameside to be exact but my mum and dad moved down south shortly after I was born, as my father was expanding his business by taking over some failing car dealership franchises. My mother had ultimately got her wish of being far away from the magic of her family, not liked it stopped Auntie M though.

The last time I remember seeing all of my Aunts was when I was about seven, going on eight years old when my Aunt Monica died. I don’t remember much of the funeral, I don’t remember seeing any of my cousins or anything. Thinking about it, I wasn’t there long enough to actually remember much of anything. We stayed for the service and kept our distance from everyone in the graveyard during the burial, then mum and dad took me back home. I only ever saw my Auntie M after that. Then dad died a few years later. That was pretty much my life in a nutshell, kinda boring and kind of sad. Oh how it was so much different now.

‘Oh, here you go.’ Said my Aunt. She cleared a space in front of her then did some weird motion with her hands. With a blip, she held a few photos in her hands and passed them over to me. I put down the cheese knife I had just used and took them from her. There were only about five photos that Auntie M handed over and I studied them carefully. They were all taken after I was born. The first was of both my mum and Auntie M mid-ugly cry. My mum had me in her arms but she had thrown her head back in that really dramatic way people do when they’re hysterical crying. Auntie M was doing the same thing, but I had noticed something on her face in the picture.

‘Auntie M, what’s that on your face there?’ I asked as I turned the photo round to show her.

‘Oh, your mum give me a black eye. She punched me in the face just before you were born because she had a death grip on my hand and your dad wasn’t there.’

‘Oh.’ I raised my eyebrow at that.

‘Oh indeed, your mum’s got a mean left hook on her.’

I shuffled through the rest of the photos. They must have all been taken at different times after I was born. Everyone was ugly crying in the photos as they held me, Auntie Monica, Miranda and even Grandma Maureen. Then the last photo was one I had never seen before; it was of me at just a few hours old, being held by my dad. He must have somehow managed to get to the hospital later on, leaving his mates behind on their stag do outing.

I could see by mum in the background of the photo, not looking too amused at my dad obviously for not being there when I was born. I missed my dad lots, not as much as my mum though. She was still taking her time getting over him dying, whilst I had come to terms with it a long time ago. Looking at the photo of my dad, it was pretty clear that I did look quite like him. I had some of the Taylor families traits like the thin top lip and the slightly round face, as well as the overall lack of height. But I had my fathers blue-ish eyes, his sandy blonde hair and his somewhat warmer complexion. What I didn’t have though, was my father’s surname which was Bridgewater. And I don’t know why but it never even occurred to me to ask my mum why I didn’t have his surname, in fact she still went by Taylor too.

‘What’s brought all this on Auntie M?’ I asked her as she was chasing a pickle around a plate with her fork. She just shrugged.

‘Dunno, I think it’s because we’re back home. It’s been a while since I’ve stayed home for any proper length of time.’

‘Well I like it here. I think my life would’ve been a lot different if we stayed round here and didn’t move.’

‘Of course it would. You wouldn’t sound so posh that’s for fuckin’ sure!’ Auntie M chuckled at me. ‘Anyway, I think we should go out. I’ll take you to a few places where we can have a couple drinks and do some investigating too.’

‘I’m cool with that.’ I said. ‘Pubs or something?’

‘Hmm maybe more clubs and a few trendy bars so it might me an idea just to dress up a little. Nothing too extravagant though. There’s usually quite a few supernatural creatures that hang around certain places and they’re cool enough.’

‘They won’t like, I dunno. Attack us or something?’ I asked. My last encounter with something supernatural was a full on demon and that did not go down too well.

‘Nah, not all demons, spirits, monsters or whatever are out for murdering. You’d be surprised just how many there are who want to live their own lives and not have us or hunters on their case all the time. You’re with me so you’ll be fine, I run in some of their circles. Go on, glamour yourself up a bit girl, we can change it up for different places as we go.’