BooksBarbecue
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Chapters (75)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. About the Author
  4. Title Page
  5. Intoroduction
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. FIVE
  11. SIX
  12. SEVEN
  13. EITHT
  14. NINE
  15. TEN
  16. ELEVEN
  17. TWELVE
  18. THIRTEEN
  19. FOURTEEN
  20. FIFTEEN
  21. SIXTEEN
  22. SEVENTEEN
  23. EIGHTEEN
  24. NINETEEN
  25. TWENTY
  26. TWENTY-ONE
  27. TWENTY-TWO
  28. TWENTY-THREE
  29. TWENTY-FOUR
  30. TWENTY-FIVE
  31. TWENTY-SIX
  32. TWENTY-SEVEN
  33. TWENTY-EIGHT
  34. TWENTY-NINE
  35. THIRTY
  36. THIRTY-ONE
  37. THIRTY-TWO
  38. THIRTY-THREE
  39. THIRTY-FOUR
  40. THIRTY-FIVE
  41. THIRTY-SIX
  42. THIRTY-SEVEN
  43. THIRTY-EIGHT
  44. THIRTY-NINE
  45. FORTY
  46. FORTY-ONE
  47. FORTY-TWO
  48. FORTY-THREE
  49. FORTY-FOUR
  50. FORTY-FIVE
  51. FORTY-SIX
  52. FORTY-SEVEN
  53. FORTY-EIGHT
  54. FORTY-NINE
  55. FIFTY
  56. FIFTY-ONE
  57. FIFTY-TWO
  58. FIFTY-THREE
  59. FIFTY-FOUR
  60. FIFTY-FIVE
  61. FIFTY-SIX
  62. FIFTY-SEVEN
  63. FIFTY-EIGHT
  64. FIFTY-NINE
  65. SIXTY
  66. SIXTY-ONE
  67. SIXTY-TWO
  68. SIXTY-THREE
  69. SIXTY-FOUR
  70. SIXTY-FIVE
  71. SIXTY-SIX
  72. SIXTY-SEVEN
  73. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  74. CLIMATE EMERGENCY
  75. Copyright

I think about it. Mum won’t be home this evening; Fridays are when she goes to see her parents. She’s stopped insisting that I come with her ever since we’ve started GCSEs, so I’ll be on my own. And will be until Sunday morning, probably. So Mum wouldn’t have to know about this. Not that she’d have a problem at all, I just know she’d make a big fuss and say things like ‘it’s good that you’re getting out again’ or ‘will there be girls there’ or, even worse, ‘fine, I’ll just sit in on my own’.

I throw my pencil at Jamie’s shoulder. It glances off, clatters across the desk in front of him. He turns around.

‘What time?’

‘Er … after half eight?’

‘Josh. Stop talking,’ hisses Mrs Burgoyne from the front, and I’m not sure if she or Jamie is more surprised.

NINE

NINE

Since Mum hasn’t changed the shopping list for a while, we’ve got a good supply of beer in the garage, all stacked up. Dad was the only one who drank it. There are bottles at the back that are probably off by now. I grab two four-packs from the top and replace them with a few packs of cokes a little further down so that the tower of beer stays the same height. I doubt Mum would mind if she knew I was taking them, but it saves time this way, and I don’t want to phone her at my grandparents’ house. It’s never a short conversation.

Nanna and Grandad have been really good for Mum, and are happy that I’m mostly ‘keeping out of it’ as they say. After it happened, they were coming over a lot, so much that I started calling the spare room their room. But they have lives like the rest of us, so before too long their visits got less frequent. Now Mum goes there instead whenever she feels like she needs a rest. Which is every weekend. And sometimes during the week.

She’s never mentioned moving house, but I’ve seen her browser history and I know she’d like it if we went to live near them. I think she’s just waiting until I finish school. Or this part of it, at least.

I sling a pizza in the oven while I go upstairs for a shower, stuffing it down before I leave the house, the beers clinking in a carrier bag.

For some reason, as I walk the short and familiar route to Jamie’s, I’m nervous. There’s a knot in my stomach like I used to get before kick-offs. It’s half excitement and half dead-weight, and it pulls me down and makes me want to turn around, go home and just curl up on the sofa all evening watching chat shows and online videos.