Blue Like Friday by Siobhan Parkinson

yesterday?”
    â€œEr, well, we had our lunch,” said Hal. “Waffles and beans.”
    â€œSounds disgusting,” I said.
    â€œWell, normally it’s broccoli and rice cakes, the stuff women eat. And I put a border around the kite. Look, I made it out of wallpaper that I found in a skip on our road.”
    â€œVery nice, Hal,” I said.
    â€œI thought about what you said about a blue kite disappearing into the sky, and I thought a red border would make it more visible.”
    â€œWell,” I said. “It’s nice to know you listen to me some of the time. So, it’s red like Wednesday then?”
    â€œNo!” he said. “Wednesday is a completely different shade of red!”
    â€œRight,” I said. Weirdo, I thought.
    He’d attached these two amazing tails to the kite as well. One was made out of an old Christmas decoration, all glittery streamers, and the other one had these paper bows
in different colors—purple and yellow and green and red and pink and turquoise and gold. It was gorgeous, and really long, and every bow was a little bit smaller than the one before it, so the whole tail kind of trailed away, right down to the tiniest little mauve bow, not much bigger than a shirt button. He’s quite artistic, Hal, when he puts his mind to it.
    â€œIt’s wicked, Hal,” I said, “but what happened ?”
    I was dying to know how Hal’s folks had reacted to all that business with the hospital, and whether the row between his mother and Alec had continued after she got back from the golf tournament. It was an interesting situation.
    â€œI told you.”
    â€œI mean Alec, what did he say ? Did he mention the hospital business?”
    â€œTo me?”
    â€œWell, yes, to you, to your mother, whatever. Did it come up in conversation over the waffles?”
    â€œHe doesn’t eat waffles. He—”
    â€œHal!”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œLook, let’s take this in easy stages. When you got home yesterday, who was there?”
    â€œMy mother was still out playing golf.”
    â€œRight. And Alec?”
    â€œHe was having a beer in the back garden.”

    So, he was home before Hal. He hadn’t got locked into some sort of nightmare in the hospital, going around and around pathetically looking for Clem Clingham and a pot of paint. He must have known about the back gate all along. He’d got one over on us there, even though he probably didn’t even know it.
    â€œSo, you stuck your head out the back door and said … oh no, you don’t talk to him, so maybe you waved to him or something?”
    â€œWave to Him? No. I just took my bike around the side of the house. I keep it in the back, and he was sitting there on a deck chair, still wearing his painting overalls.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œSo I said, ‘Were you working this morning, then? Only, I thought you were going to the golf thing with my mum.’”
    â€œHal! You spoke to him!”
    â€œWell, I thought, it’s a bit funny to be wearing his overalls when he’s not working, and if I don’t mention it, it’ll look as if I am avoiding it or something, and that might seem a bit suspicious.”
    â€œWell, yes, but I thought you said you never spoke to him! Not since he moved in.”
    â€œWell,” Hal said, “I never had anything to say to him before, not really. Nothing important. But it seemed important to say something yesterday, after … everything. So I did.”
    â€œOK, so he said?” It was hard work getting this story out of Hal.

    â€œâ€˜Rrrmph,’ something like that.”
    I wasn’t getting very far with this line of interrogation.
    â€œSo, when did your mum get home?”
    â€œShe didn’t.”
    â€œHow d’you mean, she didn’t come home? She must have been home by bedtime.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œShe stayed out all night?”
    â€œYeah,