June walked slowly up her front path. Through the window she could see the old red curtains, faded from the sunlight. Weeds poked up through the paving stones, and she bent down to pull one up. Her mum had always kept the front garden immaculate, with geraniums planted along the edge of the path, but over the years June had let things slip.
“Can I help you?”
A young woman was standing behind June, a shopping bag in each hand and a small curly-haired boy peering round from behind her legs.
“I’m here to see Linda.”
“She lives next door, at number ten.”
“Thanks.” June paused for a moment. Should she tell her whoshe was? All the correspondence had happened via solicitors, so June had never met the woman before.
“This is my house.” The boy had stepped out from behind his mum and was staring at June. He must have been about four, the same age as she’d been when she first moved here.
“It’s a lovely-looking house,” June said.
“That’s my bedroom.” He pointed up at the top front window, to June’s old room. “It has pink walls, my favorite color.”
“Come on, Danny, we need to go in for lunch,” his mum said, and she gave June a brief nod as she walked up the path toward the front door. But the boy didn’t move.
“We have a garden as well,” he said. “I have a swing.”
“That sounds wonderful. Can I ask you a question, Danny?”
The boy nodded seriously.
“Do you like reading stories?”
“Yes. I can already read by myself and I haven’t even started big school yet.”
“Well, can I tell you a secret?” June crouched down to his eye level. “Up in the loft of your house, at the very back behind the water tank, there’s a box of books that used to belong to the little girl who lived in the house.”
Danny’s eyes were like saucers. “Are you joking me?”
“No. She loved reading too, and she left them there for the next little boy or girl who lived here. So, they’re yours now.”
“Come on, Danny, hurry up,” his mum called from inside.
“What books are they?” he asked.
“You’ll have to wait and see,” June said, and the boy grinned at her. “Good-bye, Danny. It was nice meeting you.”
“Bye!” He charged past her and into the house. June heard himshouting, “Mum, there’s books for me in the—” And then the door slammed shut and it went quiet again.
Smiling to herself, June crossed the driveway and rang the doorbell of number ten. She heard the familiar chime, and a moment later the door swung open and there was Linda, resplendent in an emerald green tracksuit and matching eyeshadow.
“June!” Linda pulled her into an embrace. “Look at your hair, love. Don’t you look glamorous.”
June touched her hair, still unused to the sensation. She’d plucked up the courage to have it cut a month ago, and now she had a cropped curly bob, too short to ever tie in a bun again.
“Well, don’t be a stranger, come in,” Linda said, and June followed her through into the kitchen. “How was your birthday?”
“It was fun, thanks. I went out for dinner with Katja and some friends from work.”
“How is that gorgeous flatmate of yours?” Linda had met Katja when she came to stay with June back in March. The two of them had got on like a house on fire and stayed up drinking gin until two in the morning, while Linda regaled Katja with embarrassing stories from June’s childhood.
“She’s great.”
“And the job?”
