Contents ( 64)
- A Letter from the Author
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- ONE
‘He’s right,’ I say. ‘It was: it was to improve seat cushioning and crash protection.’
‘That’s enough from you,’ says Annie. ‘You’ve had your moment.’
‘So how did it go?’ asks Rose. In the chaos of Mum being back and getting the fish and chips, we’ve barely talked about the competition.
‘Ah …’ I glance at Ed. ‘I kind of scrapped my entire speech and made up a new one on the spot.’
‘What?’ Ed stares at me. ‘I gave up my chance to do my, frankly, amazing talk on space and the environment, just so you could make something up?’
‘You should have heard it, though,’ says Annie. ‘She mentioned all of us.’
Ed’s eyes narrow. ‘Really … What did you say?’
‘You’ll have to wait and see,’ I say. ‘They’re going to put the speeches online.’
There’s a ring of the doorbell and Ed jumps up. ‘That’ll be my mum,’ he says. Earlier he arranged for her to come and pick him up.
‘No!’ says Annie. ‘You can’t go now; it will ruin the party.’
‘Sorry,’ says Ed, ‘but I’ve got to face the music. She’s about to give me hell for dropping out of the competition.’
He looks at me, and I look at him, and an awkward silence falls across the garden. Annie rolls her eyes. ‘See him to the door, you idiot,’ she says.
Ed follows me through the house. When we open the door, there’s no one there, but then I see a very ordinary-looking blue car parked at the kerb with Ed’s brother’s cheeky face peeking out of the back. The lady sitting in the front waves at us. She doesn’t look like she’s going to give Ed hell. She looks like she’s going to give him a lovely dinner.
‘So …’ says Ed, turning to look at me.
How do you say goodbye to someone when they’ve just asked you out … and their mum is watching you? ‘So … Bye,’ I say. Bye … bye?!
He nods. ‘Call me later?’
As he goes to get in the car, I shout out, ‘Thank you!’, and he does this sort of salute which I love because it is exactly the sort of thing Buzz Aldrin might have done. In fact, the more I think about it, I realise Ed does have the air of a man from the 1960s. I feel a smile spread across my face. Somehow I’ve managed to get myself a date with a boy who looks like a retro astronaut.
I literally dance back out into the garden and the other three look up at me.
‘Yeah, he’s hot,’ Annie says. ‘Congratulations. Now wipe that smile off your face. It’s making me feel queasy.’
FIFTY-SEVEN
Once the others have gone, and I’ve persuaded Grandad that a soak in the hot tub isn’t ‘just what he needs’, I take Elsa down to the seafront and push her along the prom in her pushchair.
It’s getting late, and the darkening sky is reflecting on the still sea. We stop at the park at the foot of the Downs and I sit on a swing with Elsa on my lap. ‘So, Mum’s home,’ I say.