‘And I’m a sucker for a love story. Will truly loved Louise and that was so real.’

‘Louisa,’ said Tom. He put the book he was holding on his pile and stepped sideways.

‘Yes. You’re right, it was Louisa,’ said Maggie. Tom was turning pink. Maggie moved away. She had uncovered what she needed to.

*

When it reached shutting-up time Tom appeared at Maggie’s shoulder. ‘You getting the bus?’

‘Are you asking?’ She pushed her chair back.

‘What?’ He frowned at her. The generation divide was cavernous.

‘Nothing. Yes, I’m getting the bus.’

‘Come on then,’ said Tom, leading the way, his head down.

Maggie pulled on her coat like an excited teenager and followed him out. ‘How was your chemistry test?’

‘Huh?’

‘Last week you were working on chemistry revision. Did you get a good mark?’

‘It was okay.’

‘Right.’ He wasn’t as talkative this week and it was disappointing. ‘What did you work on today?’ She didn’t like to interrogate him but needs must.

‘English literature. We’re doing Animal Farm.’

‘Do you like it?’

‘Yeah. I liked the story but I’m not sure I understand all the analysis we have to do for the exam.’

‘Does it spoil the enjoyment of the story?’

‘Yeah. It does.’ He put his head down and walked in front of her down the alleyway.

Perhaps she’d get to natter to him again when they reached the bus stop. She was pleased to see there was nobody else waiting. She feared if anyone arrived he’d be off. They sat side by side on the cool metal seats and waited for the bus. ‘I think this week’s book club read will be more up my street.’

He was looking about. He seemed to have lost interest in her. She got the book out anyway and showed it to him.

‘The Fault in Our Stars.’ He nodded. ‘You might like it,’ she said. He nodded again before realising his mistake.

‘Nah. Doubt it.’ Tom looked away.

‘It’s okay, Tom. The others don’t know and I won’t be telling them.’

‘Know what?’ He pulled his shoulders back and stared her down.

‘That it’s you reading the books and not your mum.’

His shoulders sagged with every word, until he was back to his rounded-shoulder posture. ‘How’d you know?’

‘The way you read the blurbs before choosing the books. The conversation about Me Before You.’ She gave a shrug. ‘I’m a bit like a dog with a bone when something doesn’t add up.’

He turned to look up the road for the bus, as if willing it to arrive, but there was ages yet. ‘Well done, Miss Marple.’

‘Hey, I have better footwear than her.’ She waggled her red Doc Marten boots at him. ‘Reading isn’t something to be ashamed of.’