Just The Way You Are(16)

Oh! Okay…

‘I’m not the type of mum who lets her child get away with that kind of behaviour.’ Joan’s mum folded her arms and glared at me. ‘Just want to be clear so no accusations can be made at a later date.’

‘No!’ I said, loud enough to make Joan jump. ‘No, I mean. She’s right. I did lend her the books. I was working at the library and the manager, Irene Jenkins—’

Joan’s mum sneered. ‘That old bat! I might have known she’d have something to do with it.’

‘Right. Yes, well, she wouldn’t let Joan check out the library copies, so I lent her mine.’

The woman’s eyes narrowed.

I swallowed hard, and pressed on regardless…

‘I mean, I’ve been meaning to pop round and say hello since I moved in last weekend. I don’t know anyone in Bigley yet – apart from Irene – and, well, I appreciate I should have asked you first. But they’re amazing books, and Joan was right at one of the most exciting parts, where, well… have you read The Lord of the Rings?’

She jerked her chin. ‘I’ve seen the films.’

‘Right. Great! I love the films, too. Anyway, I hope that’s okay?’

‘She even checked out the library books too, just to wind up Irene,’ Joan added.

Her mum raised one eyebrow. ‘Okay. But for the record, my daughter’s name is Diamanté Butterfly. Please don’t forget that.’

Joan hunched her shoulders, mouth pursed angrily.

‘Mine’s Ollie,’ I said, as the woman started to usher her back around.

‘And hers is Annoying Dumbhead Liar,’ Joan, or Diamanté, muttered, just loud enough for me to hear.

At that, her mum stopped dead, three steps from my front door. She dropped into a squat and looked her daughter right in the eye. I’d have probably wet my pants facing that expression from only a few inches away. ‘What was that?’

Joan shuffled her scruffy trainers back and forth a couple of times. ‘Sorry, Mum.’

When her mum didn’t move, she opened her mouth and closed it a couple of times, before blurting, ‘I like Ollie and she did something nice for me and then you told her I steal stuff and she has to call me my stupid old name.’

Her mum waited for a few seconds. ‘Do you have anything else to say to anyone?’

Joan darted her eyes up towards mine for a microsecond. ‘Sorry, Ollie.’

‘That’s better.’ Her mum sighed. ‘I’m sorry, too.’

She straightened up, nodding her head in my direction. ‘Leanne. Thanks for lending the books. And forget what I said about her stealing stuff. That was… something different.’

‘Of course.’

As they walked away, I gave myself a mental slap. I’d made a thousand judgements about this woman, badly drawn tattoos scrawled across her arms and legs. A face with every soft angle chipped away. Eyes sharp and fierce. I did my best to ditch every ill-conceived one of them.





6





The next day, Saturday, my new bed arrived. Because I was still new to all this doing-what-I-want Dream Life, I had drawn up a carefully planned schedule for the day:

Get up when I want

Read as much as I want

Eat what I want, when I want

Swap disgusting old bed for lovely new bed

Do some more of what I want

Go to sleep in lovely new bed



This schedule was rudely interrupted before it even got started when I was woken up by more banging on my door. I stuck one hand out of the duvet and checked the time on my phone. Seven a.m.! On a Saturday! I would have buried my head under the covers and waited for whoever it was to go away, but then they started knocking on the living-room window.

Peering out with sleep-addled eyes, I saw to my dismay that I hadn’t closed the curtains properly, and there was a man now gesturing at me through the gap.

Thankfully, I was at least wearing a T-shirt and pyjama shorts. I waved in acknowledgement, and reluctantly heaved myself up. By the time I’d shuffled the five steps into the corridor, undone the lock and opened the front door, the man – and his van – were disappearing over the crest of Hatherstone Lane. And there, propped up along the wall of my house where anyone could help themselves as they walked past, were the huge boxes containing the pieces of my oak bed frame and extra-thick new mattress.

I rubbed my face a few times and went to put the kettle on.





‘No. I have a text and an email to confirm that delivery would be between twelve and two.’

I took another angry bite of bagel, while the person on the end of the phone waffled on about a blip in the system.

‘I’m not denying the blip; I’m asking you what you’re going to do about it. I paid extra for a specific delivery slot that didn’t happen, and more importantly I now have a double bed frame and mattress dumped on the pavement, while the old bed I paid for your company to take away is still upstairs, in my bedroom.’

‘Well, you should have asked them to take the old bed away,’ she droned back, as if – duh! ‘We had a blip on the system so they weren’t informed about that.’

‘I told you they left before I’d opened the door!’

‘Well, I’m sorry, madam, but I’m not sure what you expect me to do about it.’