The Library of Lost and Found(72)

“Look what we found on the beach,” Rose panted as her feet came to a standstill.

Will’s eyes were still trained in the air. “It has a thread attached but doesn’t have a handle.”

Zelda wiped her face with her fingers. “Can I have a turn?”

Will gave her a grin. “Maybe later. Can we run out towards the lighthouse, Auntie Martha?”

Martha glanced over at the craggy rocks. A gray figure stood at the end of them, looking out to sea. “Yes, but don’t be long. I’m hungry.”

She watched them run away and turned back to Zelda. “Do you remember when you could get so excited by a piece of colored polythene?”

“Remember it? I still do.”

“You were invited to the party,” Martha prompted, returning to their conversation. “What happened?”

Zelda pulled her blanket up farther up over her body. “You know what? I’m ever so hungry, too, Martha. Do you fancy going to the chip shop? I’ve not been to the one in the bay for ages.”

“I asked you a question,” Martha said firmly.

“I know you did.”

“Well?”

Zelda spun the wheels on her chair. “Let’s go,” she said. “I really can’t think straight without food.”





28


Paint

Martha treated Zelda, Will and Rose to a portion of fish, chips and mushy peas each. The sky was darkening to indigo as they carried them over to a bench halfway up the cliff that overlooked the bay. It was more sheltered here, without as much wind.

Martha made sure her hair slide was secure before she opened up her carton. She was ravenous after the Read and Run at the football ground and their visit to the beach.

Zelda leaned back in her chair. She scratched around under her headscarf, unfastened and then removed it. After folding it into a small square, she put in into her pocket.

“Why haven’t you got any hair?” Rose asked as she squeezed out a sachet of ketchup.

“I’m kick-starting a trend,” Zelda said. “It’s a strong look for us octogenarians. What do you think?”

Rose widened her eyes, then laughed. “I prefer you with the scarf.”

“Why do you have a scar on the back of your head?” Will asked.

Zelda didn’t miss a beat. “It’s from a nasty crocodile attack. I wrestled it and won.”

Will and Rose shared a shoulder shrug before they carried on eating.

Martha loved the ceremony of eating fish and chips outside, especially when it was cold. She liked to add too much vinegar so it pooled in the bottom of the carton in a brown puddle.

The four of them huddled in a line, their shoulders hunched and noses pink. They used both hands to hold their chip cartons, to keep them warm.

“What do you fancy doing, when we get back to the house?” Martha asked when they’d finished eating.

“I can show you how my phone works,” Will offered.

“Can we play with the dragon’s head?” Rose asked.

Martha thought of the beast, with his face part gray from the papier-maché repair. “You can’t really play with him because he belongs to the school. He’s also waiting to be sandpapered and painted.”

“We could do that,” Will suggested. “I like painting.”

“Me, too,” Rose said.

Martha pictured her grandmother, niece and nephew sitting on the dining room floor, circled around the dragon’s head, like it was a substitute campfire. It was a strange but rather wonderful idea.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s give it a try.”

When they got back to the house, Will’s phone rang and he darted into the kitchen to take the call. “Okay, Mum. Yes, we’re having a good time. Yes, we’ve eaten. No, I probably haven’t drunk enough water.”

Martha followed him. “Please don’t mention the football ground or Zelda,” she whispered. “I’ll tell her about them.”

Will gave a shrug. He closed the door behind him and his voice turned to a hum.

Martha maneuvered the dragon’s head onto the floor and shook the tubes of paint out of Suki’s shopping bag.

Rose crouched down beside her. She rearranged the tubes so the colors ran from light to dark.

“I’ll just pop upstairs and unpack my things,” Zelda said. She stood up from the wooden chair. “I’ll pick a bedroom.”

“Use mine if you like,” Martha said.

After a few minutes, Will reappeared. He sloped into the dining room and slumped down on his inflatable mattress. Resting his chin on his knees, he played with the laces in his shoes. “Mum wants to speak to you,” he said to his sister. “The phone’s on the dining table.”

Rose got to her feet and it was her turn to shut herself away.

Martha looked at Will’s glum face. “Do you want a cup of tea? Do you need an extra pillow on your mattress?”

Will shook his head. He undid his laces and took his shoes off. He straightened them up side by side. “Nah. It’s okay.”

Martha studied him for a while before she lowered herself down, sitting beside him.

“I don’t want a biscuit,” he said automatically.

“Do you want to talk about anything?”