Page 76 of Love Letters on Hazel Lane

‘Are you okay, Jo?’

He had seen the tear then.

‘I’m fine. Thanks.’

He glanced around him then waved the e-cigarette at her. ‘You don’t mind, do you? I’m trying to give up. Probably shouldn’t do this on school premises but no-one’s looking, are they?’

‘No, no-one. Go ahead.’

Jo wiped another tear away with her sleeve and Matthew rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled tissue.

‘It doesn’t look it, but it’s clean,’ he said offering it to her.

‘Best offer I’ve had all morning.’

‘A problem shared, Jo. What’s up?’

She took a deep breath. It might help to tell someone.

‘There’s a man I like – I mean, really like. He was at speed-dating last night. He only ticked one woman’s box, and it wasn’t mine.’

‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Look Jo, you’re lovely, but you’re not my type.’

Jo suddenly remembered that Matthew, like Razz, had only ticked one box. Oh God, he thought she fancied him. This was even more embarrassing than him catching her crying.

‘It’s not you, Matthew,’ she said.

He laughed. ‘I know. I was winding you up.’

She gave him a faint smile.

‘I’ve cheered you up at least,’ he said. ‘Jo, I’m sorry the guy you like likes somebody else, but you’ll meet someone. Honestly. You will.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Twenty-five past nine. We should head back inside.’

*

The seats they’d laid out around the tournament table filled up quickly. Alfred was playing Mr B. Jo had had the feeling that Alfred wasn’t exactly a popular child, yet half the school seemed to have turned up to cheer him on. She felt sorry for Mr B with his small band of supporters consisting only of the ladies from the Scrabble club and Cosmic Ray.

Alfred took an early lead. Mrs Hamilton-Jones was sitting with a stocky, bespectacled man who looked, Jo imagined, exactly how Alfred himself would look in thirty years’ time. She was gripping his hand so hard that her knuckles were white.

Early in the game, Mr B managed to play the word QUICK with the Q on a triple letter score and he began to edge ahead of Alfred.

‘I can’t bear to watch,’ she heard Florence whisper to Sylvia. Jo wasn’t quite sure whose side Florence was on. Was she now supporting her arch rival? Had she put their past quarrels behind her?

At one point, Alfred had all consonants and no vowels and had to forfeit a turn to change his letters. Mr B drew the J, worth a massive eight points, and managed to make JUGGLING using a blank title and an N that was already on the board. This netted him a fifty-point bonus for using all his letters.

There was no way for Alfred to catch him after that, and Mr B was declared the victor.

‘How could you, Stan?’ Jo heard Sylvia scolding him afterwards. ‘You should have let the child win. He’ll be gutted.’

Jo looked over at the Hamilton-Joneses. Mrs H-J was in tears on her husband’s shoulder but she couldn’t see Alfred. Eventually, she spotted him, surrounded by a crowd of schoolchildren. He appeared to be signing autographs.

She pushed her way through them.

‘Are you okay, Alfred?’ She put a hand on his shoulder.

‘I reached the semi-finals of my first Scrabble tournament,’ he said. ‘Mother’s disappointed, but I think I did pretty well. I’m only nine.’

‘Where did you get such a grown-up attitude?’ she said.