‘Have I ever told you about my theory of attraction?’ Norah asked.

Theresa shook her head.

‘Okay then,’ Norah said, putting a piece of chocolate in her mouth. ‘Have you ever wondered why some people attract good luck and others bad?’

Theresa frowned, as if to say: not really.

‘We all know someone who seems to have all the luck,’ Norah said. ‘And we all know some poor person who seems to attract accidents and disasters. I would say there are also people who attract love or loneliness or money or envy or sickness or pity or adventure or danger or bizarre situations.’

Theresa listened attentively; only her glazed eyes betrayed that she had consumed a certain amount of alcohol and THC.

‘In my kindergarten,’ Norah went on, ‘there was a boy called Eddy, a little red-headed bruiser. Every year, on Shrove Tuesday, we had doughnuts—always jam doughnuts, except for one, which was filled with mustard. It was supposed to be lucky to get that one, and although we kids were scared of biting into the mustard, we all hoped we’d be the lucky one. Especially as whoever bit into the mustard doughnut was always given one of the ordinary ones too. Eddy got that doughnut three years in a row. He didn’t examine them or anything; he hadn’t found a way of working out which was which. He was just the kind of person that sort of thing happened to. A few years later—we were in primary school by then—there was a nasty accident in the area. A huge tanker skidded on a bridge, broke through the crash barrier and plunged into the valley. Eddy saw the truck fall. He lived within sight of the bridge and his mum had sent him out into the garden to pick a lettuce for dinner. Eddy saw a flaming tanker fall from the sky.’

‘Wow,’ said Theresa. Norah nodded.

‘Amazing, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘A few years later, when we were in year five or six, the circus came to town and one of their monkeys escaped. Guess who found it?’

‘Sounds like a great guy, this Eddy,’ Theresa said.

Norah shrugged.

‘Actually he was just normal. But he attracted unusual situations.’

Theresa looked pensive.

‘I’m sure we’re all magnets for something,’ Norah said. ‘What I want to know is: can we change? Can we reverse our polarity? Can someone who has always been plagued by bad luck learn to attract good luck?’

‘What do you attract?’ Theresa asked.

‘Not sure. It’s easier to see patterns in other people. For a long time I thought I attracted nutcases. Nutcases and cats. Where we lived there was a black tom called Professor Snape. I don’t know where he got the name. He was so timid, he wouldn’t let anyone stroke him—most of the kids couldn’t get him to go anywhere near them. Whereas me, I wasn’t really interested in him, but he followed me everywhere. It’s the same today. If there’s a cat in the house, it’ll find me. I don’t know why. Same with nutcases.’