Back Harvesting
Chapters (50)
  1. Cover
  2. Halftitle
  3. Title
  4. 1. Nico
  5. 2. Sammy
  6. 3. Nico
  7. 4. Sammy
  8. 5. Nico
  9. 6. Sammy
  10. 7. Nico
  11. 8. Sammy
  12. 9. Nico
  13. 10. Sammy
  14. 11. Nico
  15. 12. Sammy
  16. 13. Nico
  17. 14. Sammy
  18. 15. Nico
  19. 16. Sammy
  20. 17. Nico
  21. 18. Sammy
  22. 19. Nico
  23. 20. Sammy
  24. 21. Nico
  25. 22. Sammy
  26. 23. Nico
  27. 24. Sammy
  28. 25. Nico
  29. 26. Sammy
  30. 27. Nico
  31. 28. Sammy
  32. 29. Nico
  33. 30. Sammy
  34. 31. Nico
  35. 32. Sammy
  36. 33. Nico
  37. 34. Sammy
  38. 35. Nico
  39. 36. Sammy
  40. 37. Nico
  41. 38. Sammy
  42. 39. Nico
  43. 40. Sammy
  44. 41. Nico
  45. 42. Sammy
  46. 43. Nico
  47. 44. Sammy
  48. 45. Nico
  49. Author’s Note
  50. Acknowledgements

‘Don’t talk about her like she’s not here.’

That’s it. I’ve had enough. I’m not standing here a moment longer to be insulted, or to hear Mother being spoken about in that way. If anyone is going to speak about her like that, it’s me and only me.

‘As I said earlier, thanks for the hospitality, Mrs O’D.’ All sweetness and light, and I pull the front door politely behind me. I’m curious to see how Luce navigates this one, so I walk around the side passage and listen.

‘She needs help,’ Luce says.

That is so patronising, and I’ve a good mind to run in there and tell her.

‘You may be right, but you’re not the kind of help she needs. I’ve called the principal, explained the situation. He’ll make sure she sees a counsellor.’

‘Mum, she’s not going to go back to school.’

‘Well then. I’ve done all I can.’

‘Have you? Do you really believe that?’

‘Sometimes other people’s problems are not our concern.’

‘She’s fifteen.’

‘I just can’t bear to have her around you.’

That lands like a swift left hook. A winning move, Mrs O’D.

‘You really shouldn’t have let her go like that.’

Mrs O’D obviously has a change of heart, a flash of guilt, or something, as I hear her sigh, really loudly, a big tired one, then she scrapes her chair along the floor, grabs her keys and slams the front door. I run around to the front of the passage, making sure I’m not seen, and watch Mrs O’D shift the car into gear and screech down the road. She’s gone in the opposite direction to where I live. I debate going back inside to Luce and finishing my soggy Frosties, only problem is: I’m pissed with her, and I want to be alone right now. I wish I hadn’t put on Luce’s Converse, they’re a whole size too small and pinching my toes. I didn’t have time to collect the wedges and gear from last night, and anyway, I didn’t think turning up to breakfast dressed like that would do anything to help further my cause. Wouldn’t have made a jot of difference the way it turned out. I wonder what Mrs O’D reckons she would do if she found me, although it’s pretty obvious she has no intention of doing that.