some paperwork then, all right?’
‘Yes, again,’ said Charlie, and his dad patted his shoulder and left through the curtain at the back of the shop.
‘Have you got to go somewhere?’ I asked him, as he bagged up the ham and weighed it out.
‘Yeah, the doctors,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘I’ve got to have this check-up thing about my asthma.’ He removed a small pill bottle from his jeans and rattled it to show me.
‘Oh,’ I said, my heart skipping the smallest beat. I did like vulnerably lovable boys. ‘You’ve got asthma?’
‘Yeah. They changed my tablets, which made it worse, so they’re gonna put me on some different ones.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘My brother has that, but he has inhalers.’
‘I used to have inhalers, but I’m allergic to steroids,’ he said. ‘These are preventers. No steroids. They really work too, I’ve had way fewer attacks this year.’
‘Oh right.’
He must have it really bad, I thought. I remembered when Seb had a bad attack at his school sports day and had to be taken to hospital. I’d never been so scared in my life, waiting for news. Until now, of course. Charlie put the ham next to the cheese by the till. I smiled at him, hoping somehow he’d translate what it meant into words.
‘Anything on your list?’
‘Um,’ I said, playing for time as I looked down at mypiece of paper—Frosties and Post-its. ‘I’ll have some Cola Cubes please. And toffees. About two pounds worth of each.’
‘Coming up.’ He smiled, walking round to the other counter where the sweet jars were. I continued to watch his forearms as he took down the Cola Cube jar and began weighing them out.
‘You don’t have
Con Air
on DVD by any chance, do you?’
He frowned as he crouched down to get the toffees from the bottom shelf behind the counter. ‘Not sure. Have a look on the rack.’
I picked my way through the DVDs, desperately trying to think of something else to say, something to ask him, but everything I could think of was a platitude. The weather. The shop. School. I wanted to ask him something about himself, something that would segue us into a conversation about going out or something, but I couldn’t think how to do it.
Amazingly, I found
Con Air
with a £3 sticker on the front. I put it in my basket.
‘So when do you go home for Christmas then?’ Charlie asked me.
‘Some of us are here till Boxing Day, others for the duration. My parents are in South America. I’m not sure when they’re coming.’
‘That sucks,’ he said, looking genuinely sad for me.
‘It’s okay.’ I shrugged.
‘How many of you are left?’
‘Six, not including Matron. Maggie’s there till the New Year I think.’
He nodded. ‘Cool.’
‘How come?’
He smiled, winding round my sweetie bag. ‘Just good toknow, that’s all.’ My hopes sank like a plank. I knew why he had asked about our Christmas plans. He was going to play a prank on Maggie, that was all. Nothing to do with my availability for a date or anything.
He looked around, seemingly checking for his dad who might be lurking to pounce on him if he wasn’t working hard enough, then he leaned forwards over the counter. ‘So, do you get any time out?’
‘Huh?’ I said, picking up a two pence piece that had dropped out of my purse.
‘Do you get allowed out anywhere?’
‘Um …’
‘I thought you and me could, I dunno, maybe go into town or something?’ His dad popped his head through the curtain. ‘Yeah?’ said Charlie.
‘I’m going upstairs to change, all right? There’s a delivery coming in a bit. Keep an ear out?’
‘Yeah.’ When his dad had gone, he seemed to relax a bit more. ‘So anyway, there’s a Christmas fair on over at Dyerston. Or we could go up the Gorge or something?’
Jackpot. My mouth was out-of-control smiley all of a sudden. ‘Really?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What, all of us?’
‘No.’ He smiled, ‘I thought just you, maybe.’
‘Um,’ I said, still smiling. ‘Well,
Maggie Brendan
Barbara O'Connor
Jan Washburn
Terri Blackstock
Norah Simone
Barry Kemp
G.P. Taylor
Alan Cumyn
Linda Barnes
Lisa Jackson