‘I did, but it’s not working out.’
‘It’d take a million years, Tessa! I’m probably not even allowed. I’ve only just learned myself.’
‘Since when did you care about what was allowed?’
‘Do we have to talk about this now? Come on, let’s go.’
She scrapes her chair back, but I’m not ready yet. I want to watch that black cloud drive towards the sun. I want to watch the sky turn from grey to charcoal. The wind’ll pick up and all the leaves will rip off the trees. I’ll race about catching them. I’ll make hundreds of wishes.
Three women appear, hauling buggies and children across the square towards us.
‘Quick!’ they cry. ‘In here, quick, before it rains again.’
They shiver and laugh as they squeeze past us to an empty table. ‘Who wants what?’ they cry. ‘What do we want?’ They sound just like the starlings.
Zoey stretches, blinks at the women as if wondering where they came from. They make a great fuss taking off coats and plonking babies in high chairs, wiping noses with bits of tissue and ordering juice and fruitcake.
‘My mum used to bring me to this cafe when she was pregnant with Cal,’ I tell Zoey. ‘She was completely addicted to milkshakes. We used to come every day until she got so fat her entire lap disappeared. I had to sit on a stool by her side to watch the telly.’
‘Oh my God!’ Zoey snarls. ‘Being with you is like being in a horror movie!’
I look at her properly for the first time. She hasn’t made any effort; is just wearing shapeless jogging pants and a sweatshirt. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her without make-up before. Her spots are really obvious.
‘Are you all right, Zoey?’
‘I’m cold.’
‘Did you think the market was on today? Were you expecting to see Scott?’
‘No!’
‘Good, because you don’t look great.’
She glares at me. ‘Shoplifting,’ she says. ‘Let’s just get it over with.’
Eighteen
Morrisons is the biggest supermarket in the shopping centre. It’s nearly school kicking-out time and it’s busy.
‘Take a basket,’ Zoey says. ‘And watch out for store detectives.’
‘What do they look like?’
‘They look as if they’re at work!’
I walk slowly, savouring the details. It’s ages since I’ve been in a supermarket. At the deli they have little saucers on top of the counter. I take two pieces of cheese and an olive, realize I’m starving, so help myself to a handful of cherries at the fruit bar. I munch on them as I walk.
‘How can you eat so much?’ Zoey says. ‘I feel sick just looking at you.’
She instructs me to put things that I don’t want in the basket – normal things like tomato soup and cream crackers.
‘And in your coat,’ she says, ‘you put the things you
‘Like what?’
She looks exasperated. ‘I don’t bloody know! There’s a whole shop full of stuff. Take your pick.’
I choose a slim bottle of vampire-red nail varnish. I’m still wearing Adam’s jacket. It’s got lots of pockets. It slips in easily.
‘Great!’ Zoey says. ‘Law successfully broken. Can we go now?’
‘Is that it?’
‘Technically.’
‘That’s not anything! A runner from the cafe would have been more exciting.’
She sighs, checks her mobile. ‘Five more minutes then.’ She sounds like my dad.
‘And what about you? Are you just going to watch?’
‘I’m your lookout.’
The assistant at the pharmacy is discussing chesty coughs with a customer. I don’t think she’s going to miss this tube of Relief Body Moisturizer or this small jar of Creme de Corps Nutritif. In the basket go crispbreads. In my pocket goes Hydrating Face Cream. Tea bags for the basket. Signs of Silk Skin Treatment for me. It’s a bit like strawberry picking.
‘I’m good at this!’ I tell Zoey.
‘Great!’
She’s not even listening. Some lookout she is. She’s fiddling about at the pharmacy counter.
‘Chocolate aisle next,’ I tell her.
But she doesn’t answer, so I leave her to it.
It’s not exactly Belgium, but the confectionery section has miniature boxes of truffles tied with sweet little ribbons. They’re only ?1.99, so I nick two boxes and shove them in my pocket. A biker’s jacket is very good for thieves. I wonder if Adam knows this.
At the end aisle, by the freezers, my pockets are bulging. I’m wondering how long Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food would last in a coat when two girls I used to go to school with walk by. They stop when they see me, bend their heads close together and whisper. I’m just about to text Zoey to let her know she needs to help me out when they come over.
‘Are you Tessa Scott?’ the blonde one says.
‘Yeah.’
‘Do you remember us? We’re Fiona and Beth.’ She makes it sound as if they only come in a pair. ‘You left in Year Eleven, didn’t you?’
‘Ten.’
They both look at me expectantly. Don’t they realize that they come from another planet – somewhere that spins much more slowly than mine – and that I have absolutely nothing to say to them?
‘How’s it going?’ Fiona says. Beth nods, as if she agrees entirely with this question. ‘Are you still having all that treatment?’
‘Not any more.’
‘So you’re better?’
‘No.’
I watch them understand. It starts in their eyes and spreads down their cheeks to their mouths. It’s all so predictable. They won’t ask any more questions, because there are no polite ones left. I want to give them permission to leave, but I don’t know how to.
‘I’m here with Zoey,’ I say, because the silence goes on for too long. ‘Zoey Walker. She was in the year above us.’
‘Really?’ Fiona nudges her friend. ‘That’s weird. She’s the one I was telling you about.’
Beth brightens at this, relieved that normal communication has resumed. ‘Is she helping you shop?’ She sounds as if she’s talking to a four-year-old.
‘Not exactly.’
‘Hey, look!’ Fiona says. ‘There she is. Do you know who I mean now?’
Beth nods. ‘Oh,
I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t said anything. I’ve got a horrible feeling about this. But it’s too late now.
Zoey doesn’t look at all pleased to see them. ‘What’re you doing here?’
‘Talking to Tessa.’
‘What about?’
‘This and that.’
Zoey looks at me suspiciously. ‘Are you ready to go?’
‘Yeah.’
