‘Okay. I’m still doing a lot of research,’ I admit. ‘I haven’t got stuck into the writing yet.’
‘I can’t imagine taking something like that on,’ she says. ‘It must be so overwhelming.’
‘It is pretty daunting,’ I agree. ‘When I think about all of those readers... It’s scary. I’m trying to focus on the story and not dwell on everyone else’s expectations.’
She gives me a sympathetic look. ‘Well, if you need a sounding board – or even just a break – you know where I am.’
I smile at her as we come to a stop outside Charlie’s house. ‘Thanks. I really appreciate that.’
‘You could always bring April, too,’ she suggests. ‘It would be lovely for her and Thomas to be buddies.’
‘Yeah, it would,’ I agree, although a niggling little internal voice points out that it’s not my place to take her out for a play date.
Charlie is out the back, working, when I unlock the front door, but he comes straight in.
‘How was it?’ he asks, still seeming baffled by this turn of events.
‘Amazing,’ I reply. ‘That guy was nuts!’
‘Who?’
‘The guy who does the music. He was all over the place! Jumping this way and that. He even hung from the rafters at one point and pretended to be a monkey. Youhaveto go next week.’
He looks dubious.
‘If you don’t,Iwill,’ I say. ‘In fact, I’d probably still go with you if you took her. That was the best thing I’ve done all week.’
He starts to laugh.
‘I’m serious!’ I exclaim. ‘And April loved it. She was flipping beside herself, I’m not even kidding. I know exactly what I’m getting her for her birthday.’
‘What?’ Charlie asks.
‘Tambourines and stuff. Do you know anywhere around here that might sell musical instruments?’
‘There’s a toyshop in Padstow.’
‘I’ll check it out. Otherwise, I’ll have to drag Marty further afield on Saturday.’
‘Is she coming down?’ he asks with interest.
‘She is.’ I smile at him. ‘Friday night.Late.Think we’ll be saving our big night out for Saturday. Are you doing anything?’
‘Aside from sitting here with a takeaway and a movie? Nope.’
‘Could you get a sitter? Your mum can’t help out on Saturdays, can she?’
‘Er, no, and I’m not really sure how I feel about getting a sitter yet. Anyway, you don’t want me hanging out with you; you see me all week.’
True.
‘I’d like Marty to meet you,’ I admit. ‘Maybe we could go for a cream tea or something?’
‘Okay.’ He gives me a smile that has a radiator effect on my stomach, and suddenly my head is singing the opening line of Elton John’s ‘Your Song’.
Yes, the way I’m feelingisa little bit funny.
I go upstairs humming the tune.
