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
‘I am amazing at the Beer–Lambert Law!’ he says.
‘You’ve never heard of it, have you?’
‘No,’ he admits, ‘but by tomorrow I’ll be able to write a PhD on it.’ Then Elsa kind of ruins his boast by grabbing hold of his nose and squeezing really, really hard.
FORTY-FOUR
It takes a while for Ed to leave. While Elsa plays with Pongo in the hallway, we stand on the balcony and Ed quizzes me a bit about the stars I see when I go up on the Downs. In the end, I get my binoculars and show him Jupiter, which is just starting to appear.
‘I’d better go,’ he says for the second or third time. He hands me my binoculars and walks towards the stairs. He stops at the last moment and turns. ‘Thanks for the crisps,’ he says, then he gives me a wave and he’s gone.
I go into the flat and pick Elsa up. Then I stand with my back against the door and I smile. Elsa’s staring at me, blowing raspberries. She stops and points a finger at my mouth. ‘Da?’ she says.
‘I’m just happy,’ I say. ‘Really, really happy.’
My happiness lasts all evening and is given a boost on Sunday when Ed sends me a friend request on Facebook. I accept straight away. He knows about my mum. Who cares what he thinks about my moon pictures? Annie notices this development and sends me a series of direct messages:
Annie: Did he bring flowers?
Me: No. Just his AQA physics textbook and a scientific calculator.
Annie: The dirty dog! Did you test him for sapiosexuality?
Me: Your theory is bogus. I refuse to take part in a flawed experiment.
Annie: Ooooh … I like it! Maybe I’m a sapiosexual …
Two minutes later:
Annie: OK, I know I sound like the type of revolting girl that I despise, but did you *kiss* him?
This message is accompanied by a GIF of an elf vomiting a rainbow.
Me: NO!
Annie: So what did you do?
Me: We made a baby walker moo.
Annie: What? Is that code for something disgusting?
Me: No. We literally made a baby walker moo.
Annie: I was not expecting that.
Me: Neither was I.
FORTY-FIVE
When I hand Elsa over to Dawn on Monday, I practically throw her into her arms. My last handover! Right now, Mum is on her way home. I don’t know what time she’ll get back, but she can definitely drop Elsa off tomorrow.
I’m about to go when Dawn hands me a letter and says, ‘It’s from Christine, the manager. It’s for your mum.’
I slip the official-looking envelope in my bag. ‘I’ll make sure she gets it.’
‘It’s a bill,’ Dawn says, and although she doesn’t actually smile, I get the feeling she’s enjoying herself.
‘I thought Mum was up to date with the fees?’ This was one of the first things I checked when Mum left.
‘She is, but we’ve had to charge for Elsa’s lunches. Your mum usually provides a packed lunch – she was very particular about organic food – but when she hurt her back she stopped putting them in.’