‘Come on, what are we hanging round here for?’ he said in a Morris Carpenter voice, to divert her. ‘Something real nasty might happen and we might miss out on it. Like those dirty big clouds banking up over there, cool change on the way, maybe a thunderstorm. Let’s go and stand under shelter and watch all the people get wet! Psst, Angie…Carmen Miranda—hey, are you listening?’

‘It’s just as well they never actually had Morris Carpenter in charge of the weather,’ Angie said at last. ‘He’d have fixed it up so it rained on purpose for people’s weddings and sports days. There’s something else I remember about old Morris—he used to have this calendar at school, right, and he’d cross off every day with a big black pencil soon as the last bell went. And he’d mutter, “There, that’s one less day to get through!” Cheerful little bloke, wasn’t he? One less day to get through…’

‘There’s rain on the way, told you so,’ Seymour said. ‘We’ll get soaked if we just stand around. Come on, Angie, your sister’s gone, anyway.’

‘Maybe old Morris had a point after all,’ said Angie.

Angie,

Thanks a lot for getting me in strife with the neighbours, all that row you made! I thought you were serious about wanting to come off it, needing somewhere to stay and someone to help you through it. What a joke.

I made things clear, Ange, I’m NOT having stuff brought into this flat. You’re a creep. You know how dicey it still is for me at this stage of the game.

You probably don’t even remember the things you said, the way you carried on. And I DIDN’T dob you in to your mum and dad. It wasn’t like that. I couldn’t handle the state you were in—what the hell was I supposed to do, ring up that ratbag Rick or someone? Anyhow, your dad guessed soon as he saw you.

Listen, I don’t want you round here any more. I mean it. If I lose this flat I don’t know where Amy and I could go. I’ve got too much at stake. Everyone’s tried to help you, Angie, but you just use them up. All those times I stuck by you…well, I’ve had enough. I got my act together, why the hell can’t you? And I didn’t have any family helping me, either. Leave me right out of it from now on.

Judy

God, Angie, this is the hardest letter I ever had to write anyone!

Dear Judy,

I must have missed you on Saturday, knocked for ages and was just about to bust in through your bathroom window and wait (but didn’t think I’d better!).