“Shoes on”—Grandad grinned—“and back on the bus! Two buckets each … let’s hope we won’t have to pay the full fare for them…”

Nobody sat next to them. And to be honest, Marty wasn’t surprised by that. Not that the seaweed smelled bad or anything, it was just that you probably wouldn’t choose to sit next to three people taking six buckets of seaweed on a bus trip.

“We’re going to make that plant a cup of tea,” said Grandad.

“Tea?” Gracie raised an eyebrow.

“Soak this seaweed in water, leave it out in the sun, and brew that plant a nice refreshing cup of seaweed tea. I promise you. The thing’ll grow bigger than a triffid.”

Gracie still didn’t know what he was talking about, but smiled anyway.

Marty sat in the window seat, watching the seaside disappear and the green spaces become fewer and fewer as they got closer to the middle of the city. They helped carry the seaweed back (made easier by the BMX) to the allotments. Gracie ran home and waved the fact that she had arrived there safely through her bedroom window. And Grandad walked Marty home.

Marty stopped at the gate.

“Want to come in?” he asked hopefully.

Grandad could see that some clearing had been going on.

“No, you’re all right,” he said.

Marty nodded, trying not to say the word please.

“Okay, good night, Marty boy.”

Marty nodded.

“Good night.”

Marty watched Grandad disappear into the orangey light of the streetlamps before shouting after him.

“It was fun!”

Grandad turned and raised the trilby off his head a moment before saying,

“Of course it was!”

ELEVEN

MUM HAD STARTED washing clothes. That may not sound like such a big deal, but she had started washing clothes and hanging them on the washing line outside. The weather was getting warmer and the rubbish in their garden had started to really stink, but Marty couldn’t have been happier. He watched her come in as he spread butter on some toast for them both. Mum sat down and took a sip of the tea that Marty had made her.

“So? Come on, tell me all about it!”

Marty looked at her in confusion.

“Yesterday, did you have fun?”

Marty smiled broadly.

“Yes.”

Marty wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw a little disappointment in her face.

“I—I mean,” he stammered, “it was okay.”

Mum smiled at him. Put down her cup. She studied him for a while.

“It’s okay, you know. It’s good for you to have fun.” She paused a moment. “I want you to have fun.”

Marty smiled back softly. He wanted to say that he wished she was able to come too, but he didn’t want to make her feel bad that she couldn’t.

“You never know,” she said. “One day, maybe next summer, I could come with you too.”

Marty nodded.

“How was Grandad?”