I sigh. I know she had to cancel one of her yoga classes when she came over to the shop yesterday. Maybe I’ll knit her a bag for her yoga mat to say sorry. I push off the duvet and make myself sit up.

“I’m coming!” I call back.

I manage a speedy shower and smear way too much edge-control gel across my head. These baby hairs are still gonna be smooth when I’m a grandma. I pull on my school uniform and carefully roll up Kandi’s blanket. I stash it in one of Annie’s old tote bags along with the extra wool and go downstairs.

Annie puffs out her breath. “At last,” she says.

She’s laid out breakfast things on the table. Yoghurt, a fresh fruit salad and there’s even bread in the toaster. My stomach reminds me that it hasn’t seen food since the Twix I had after school yesterday.

“What’s in the bag?” Annie asks as I sit down.

“Kandi’s blanket,” I say.

“Are you planning on taking it to school?”

I fill a bowl with fruit salad and spoon yoghurt over the top of it. I mix it all up together. The kid at the place I used to live before Annie’s said I made it look like sick. I got moved from there when I heaped a load of apple on my spoon and flicked it at them. I nod at Annie and put a spoonful of breakfast in my mouth. The juice to dairy to banana balance is just right.

Annie says, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to take pointy things to school today, Charlene.”

“You mean my needles?” I say, and lay down my spoon. “What do you think I’m gonna do with them?”

“I think you’re going to knit with them,” Annie says. “Or that’s the intention. But you’re not in the best of moods.”

I push my bowl away and stand up. “What are you trying to say?” I ask.

“What I am saying, Charlene, is that taking metal knitting needles to school isn’t a good idea at the best of times,” Annie says. She’s using her yoga voice – the one where you’re done bending yourself double and need to calm down a bit. “What if you’re happily knitting away and some other student pulls your blanket from you? What if you act before you realise?”

“You reckon I’m gonna be violent?” I say.

“No, Charlene, I don’t. But I do think there are students who would try really hard to provoke you.”

I don’t say nothing. I know there are kids like that, but I’m not gonna admit it to Annie.

“Or even worse,” Annie says, “someone might steal your needles and do something bad with them. Who do you think might get the blame?”