‘Nothing, why?’
‘Good, meet you at the bakery after dinner then.’
SINCLAIR
It’s a long time since it’s mattered to me so much for a cake to be good as it does with this birthday cake for Henry’s sister Maeve.He has no idea when Tori and Olive open the shop door to him and Emma, just after eight. Then he spots Gideon and Grace and starts to look a little uncertain. I was surprised too, but I respect Grace for wanting to be here for Henry this evening, even though I can imagine how painful it is for her to see him with Emma.
I’d expected that my friend would cry, but I feel extra bad about it this time. Perhaps because Henry’s trying his hardest to pull himself together as he stares at the cake. The candlelight flickers in his glittering eyes.
‘Really?’ he asks, for the third time, bending over slightly as I nod.
Tori takes my hand as Henry hesitates.
‘Happy birthday to you,’ he whispers, then blows out the candles. Emma wipes away his tears and gives him a hug as he steps back.
We don’t talk about it so often any more, but I can imagine that, at moments like this, it feels as unbearable as it did right after Maeve died.
I hold off on cutting the cake until Emma lets go of Henry. The others all give him a quick hug, and then it’s my turn.
Henry and I don’t often hug, but when we do, we do it properly. After almost seven years at school, he really is like a brother to me, and the idea that he might just not be here one day makes me want to boak. I’ll never be able to comprehend how he must feel, but I know I’ll always do everything in my power to make it a bit more bearable for him. Even if it’s only a stupid cake – I’d bake him one every day if it would help.
Today it’s helping. I’m sure of that as Henry watches – lips pressed together like always when he’s trying not to cry – while I cut the cake. I give him the first slice and, because he’s Henry, he passes it to Emma. Then I hand plates around to everybody else. Grace’s smile is kind of strained as she looks at her piece. Her eyes go to Gideon. ‘Want to share?’ she asks. Gideon hesitates,and I can’t help noticing the way he looks at her, but he nods, if slightly unwillingly. And I don’t think that’s because he feels he’s being short-changed. I remember what Henry said that time. Looking at her now, even I can see that Grace has lost weight. Gideon takes a bite, then pushes the plate firmly back to her.
Henry glances sidelong at them, then turns his attention to his own plate. You can see he doesn’t have any appetite, but it’s Maeve’s favourite, so he has to try it: the chocolate cake we supply to the Blue Room Café in Ebrington, and it’s turned out incredibly well, though I say so myself.
‘Another slice?’ I ask Henry, as he pushes his plate aside.
He shakes his head. ‘No, thanks. But it was perfect. Maeve would have given it ten out of ten.’
‘Excellent.’ I scrape my plate clean with my fork.
‘You know this Farewell to the Upper Sixth at the end of the month,’ Emma says suddenly, ‘what will it be like?’
‘Kind of like the Monday assemblies, only more of a celebration,’ Olive explains.
‘Mrs Sinclair gives a speech, there are photos, and drinks and nibbles afterwards,’ Gideon adds.
‘Oh, OK. I thought it was something like theAbiprank.’
‘The what?’ Henry asks.
‘TheAbiprank. In Germany, when they’ve finished theirAbitur, the leavers play some kind of practical joke. Don’t you have anything like that?’
I look around the room, and shrug.
‘No, but it sounds fun,’ Tori says. ‘The Farewell is more of a formal thing.’
‘Uniform, then?’
Henry nods. Earlier, at dinner, everyone had been talking about the fact that Tori and the others hadn’t been able to change anything.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ Tori says slowly. ‘If we really want to get anywhere, we have to go public, make our voice heard. How better can we do that than on social media?’
‘What were you thinking?’ asks Grace.
‘Set up Instagram and TikTok accounts,’ she explains. ‘Partly so that everyone else at school knows what we’re planning, and partly to get attention, which in turn will get us coverage.’
‘So, we keep going?’ Emma asks.
