The Girl Below by Bianca Zander

situation as difficult for him as he was making it for me. “It doesn’t belong to me.”
    I resumed reading. When my ploughman’s arrived, it was predictably weedy and didn’t go far in soaking up either stomach acid or my revolting mood. I put down the novel while I ate and sensed Caleb’s continuing interest in it, as well as the pride or stubbornness that prevented him from admitting it. He eyed my food too, but when I asked him if he wanted any, he said he wasn’t hungry. I didn’t see how that was possible—seeing as his hips were so thin they barely held up his pants.
    We sat like that, in unhappy companionship, for another half hour or so, long enough for me to pseudo-read ten pages, and spend Pippa’s change on a gluten-free rubber ball masquerading as a muffin, washed down with a second coffee. Caleb ate nothing, did nothing except destroy the tabletop, and mostly, I ignored him. But toward the end of the hour I remembered Pippa’s anxious tone on the phone, and felt guilty for spending her money and not at least trying to help her son. “So what do you do when you bunk off school?”
    Caleb looked surprised that I’d spoken. “Nothing much.”
    “In my day, the cool kids used to hang out on some church steps near the school, smoking. They always went to the same place, and always came back to school chewing gum to hide the smell. About once a week, they got caught.”
    “What’s that got to do with me?”
    “Well, nothing, because you’re obviously not that stupid.”
    His mouth rippled with a smile before he remembered to scowl.
    “On the other side of it, if you were mostly a geek and did all your homework on time, you could get away with bunking because the teachers didn’t have time to come down hard on everyone—only the ones who were failing.”
    “I’m not a geek,” said Caleb.
    “I know, but you might get away with more if you at least did your homework.”
    He thought this over for a moment. “That sounds naff.”
    “It worked for me,” I said, and shrugged.
    I glanced away and saw Pippa bustling across the café toward us. She looked happy—perhaps surprised to see that Caleb was still there. “I see you two have been getting along famously,” she said, eyeing the two empty cups on the table. “Caleb, you didn’t have a coffee, did you?”
    “She had two,” Caleb said, with haste. “And an enormous ploughman’s lunch and a muffin.”
    “Well, good for you,” said Pippa, smiling broadly at me. “Told you the food here was delicious.”
    Caleb stood up. “Can we go now? All the new games will be gone.”
    “What kind of games?” I asked, curious.
    Caleb looked at his mother—clearly warning her not to say anything.
    “There’s this one with a cute purple dragon,” said Pippa. “It flies around a castle, rescuing princesses and collecting treasure. What’s it called again, darling?” She glanced at Caleb, who was giving her a dark look.
    “I haven’t played that for about five years,” he said.
    “Well,” she continued, “whatever it is, we have to restrict his use or he’ll play it twenty-four hours a day—no toilet breaks or even dinner.” She patted Caleb’s slim torso and laughed. “If he ate any less, he’d disappear.”
    “Mum! Can we please just go?” His petulance made him seem younger, still a child. He didn’t even have chin fluff yet, I noticed.
    “Wait for me outside,” said Pippa, and once he’d gone, added, “I’m sorry he was such a little shit.”
    “Don’t worry,” I said. “We’ve all been there.”
    “Well, I’m really very grateful to you, and I wanted to ask if you’re still sleeping on your friend’s couch?”
    “It’s getting to be a bit of a problem,” I said, tired of pretending.
    “Splendid,” said Pippa. “Because I have a proposition for you.”
    Before she even told me what it was, I started to feel uneasy.
    “We got our dates muddled up and Peggy’s nurse, Amanda, has booked to go on leave