‘We’d have to come back here first because he’ll be all smelly and oily. Ruby’s dad wears a suit for work. And what am I supposed to do until this evening if I go down to the garage? What do Idodown there all day?’
‘It will be just the afternoon. You can sit in the office at the back of the garage…’
‘Delulu!’
‘Sorry…?’ I stared.
‘Delusional, Mum.’ Lola was obviously proud of her new word.
‘Right.’ Jesus, I hadn’t got Sorrel back on the straight and narrow to have to start again with Lola. At the age of eleven, for heaven’s sake. ‘You’ll be able to do some of your SATS work. You’ve not even looked at those revision books I bought you.’
‘As I said,delulu.’ Lola’s head now appeared fully from the depths of the duvet. ‘I could go to Ruby’s.’
‘No, you couldn’t. I’m not prepared to palm you off on other people. Especially people I don’t know. Using them as free childminding.’
‘You do know them! And I’m not a child.’
I actually laughed out loud at that. ‘What are you then?’
‘Atweenactually,’ Lola said. ‘Ruby says?—’
‘Right, I’m going to make breakfast for Joel. Poached eggs? D’you want some? And then a shower to make myself look the part for this professional opening company.’
Even a couple of weeks ago, Lola would have been interested in what I was up to, would have helped me decide what to wear, helped me to put the finishing touches to my showcasing puds; helped me into Vera with them. Surely eleven years old was too young for this moodiness?
I made my way downstairs, calling through the open kitchen door to Joel, who was now seated on the swing, repeating lines over and over again to himself. He made his way inside once he saw me at the door.
‘Breakfast?’
‘Please,’ he said.
‘Joel, you must make yourself at home,’ I said, heading to the fridge for eggs. ‘Thisisyour home for the time being, you know.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Look, I know it’s not easy. I just don’t want you to feel like a guest.’
‘I don’t like to help myself to coffee or make myself some toast. You know…’
‘Well, if you don’t, you’re going to starve.’ I laughed, patting his arm. ‘I’m more than happy to make breakfast for you if I’m here, and I’ll always make a meal for you every evening to eat with Lola and me. But honestly, Joel, the fridge and pantry are at your disposal. This won’t work if you feel awkward. And you’ve your own key – just don’t be coming in after ten at night, playing loud music.’
‘Thank you.’
‘And stop saying thank you!’ I smiled across at him.
‘Actually, I saw there’s a bike in the carport. Is that your husband’s?’
‘Dean’s? Yes, it is. He bought it a couple of years ago when he was thinking of training for a triathlon. It’s a good one, I think – knowing Dean, he’d have to be seen out on the best. Now he plays golf instead, it doesn’t quite fit in with the image he’s trying to portray these days.’ I paused. ‘Don’t suppose it’s easy cycling with golf clubs on your back.’
We both smiled at the picture.
‘D’you want to use it?’ I asked.
‘Could I?’ Joel’s face lit up. ‘It would save Robyn having to come out here to give me a lift to school every day, or you dropping me off. And I do want to go in, you know – don’t want to be under your feet all day.’
‘Well, check it out – make sure it’s roadworthy – and yes, I don’t see why you can’t use it. Is the helmet with the bike?’
Joel nodded.
