Page 6 of The Memory Wood

Downstairs, her mum is standing in the hall, clutching her car keys. ‘OK?’

Elissa nods.

‘Sure you’ve got everything?’

‘Yep.’

‘Notebook? Pens? Lunchbox?’

‘Yep, yep, yep.’

‘Monkey?’

She winces.

Her mum laughs, bends down and kisses her. ‘You’re going to be great. The important thing is to enjoy yourself.’

‘The important thing is towin.’

Her mum tilts her head, as if she’s in an art gallery assessing a particularly peculiar piece. ‘I’m so proud of you, Lissy,’ she says. ‘I love you so much.’

‘Love you too,’ Elissa mumbles. And it’s true. She really does.

Lena Mirzoyan pushes up her coat sleeve and checks her watch. ‘We’d better go. Do you need a wee?’

‘Mum!’

‘OK, sorry. Bad habit. Let’s skedaddle.’

II

They’re in the car, heading along the dual carriageway. An Adele song is playing: ‘Rolling in the Deep’. Elissa doesn’t know much about music but she knows Adele because her mum has her CD and plays it all the time.

The tournament is in Bournemouth, an hour’s drive. Registration is at ten, but they left the house at seven. The risk of getting snarled in a two-hour jam this early on a Saturday morning is almost zero, but Lena Mirzoyan lives in fear of letting her daughter down. As a result, they reach the outskirts of Bournemouth exactly two hours before the venue opens.

Examining the Fiesta’s dashboard clock, Lena winces. ‘We’re a bit early.’

‘A bit?’

‘Oh, Lissy, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to take any chances. I—’

‘Mum, I’m kidding. It really doesn’t matter. Maybe we can get some breakfast.’

Lena nods, relief spreading across her face. ‘I could certainly do with something. I didn’t eat anything before we left.’

‘Why not?’

She shrugs. ‘Nerves, I guess.’

Elissa laughs. ‘Why areyounervous?’

‘Because I know how much this means to you. I want you to do well.’

‘Don’t you think I will?’

‘I think you’ll knock ’em dead.’

‘Then you’ve no reason to be nervous.’

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