Page 34 of Christmas Every Day
* * *
I arrived home with the cake unharmed despite the angry and anxious thoughts sloshing around in my brain and disturbing my balance. Then I sucked in a big lungful of crisp forest air and knocked on Mack’s back door. Then, of course, knocked twice more before he answered it.
‘Hi.’
‘Hi.’ His frown lessened slightly when he spied the tub in my outstretched hands.
‘Peace offering?’
Ooh, that made me bristle. ‘Why do I need to make a peace offering?’
He shrugged. ‘A month of your prickly attitude, constant banging and the gradual encroachment of your trash-heap onto my charming garden?’
‘My orderly stack is not encroaching on your raggedy, charmless garden.’
He raised his eyebrows.
‘Fine,’ I snapped. ‘I’ll move it.’
‘No need.’ He looked at me thoughtfully, and I’m sure a smile lurked somewhere behind those dark eyes. ‘Another cake’ll be more than adequate recompense. For now.’
I fidgeted on one foot, every inch of trampled pride urging me to hand over the cake and scarper. It had nearly won, when Mack suddenly narrowed his eyes.
‘Oh, no. What have you done now?’
‘What? Nothing! I’ve made you a cake. That’s all I’ve done!’
‘But if it’s not a peace offering, then why?’ He pulled his head back. ‘Are you trying to make this a thing, us sharing cake?’
I scrabbled for something to say that didn’t make me come off worse, yet again. Mack said nothing, no doubt happy to watch me dig myself in deeper.
‘I know I’ve not always been as nice as I could have been, and now my grandma’s hideous stuff is spilling across your land because I can’t afford a skip or a car, but, well, I’m working on it. And, um, in the meantime, it would be really helpful if, well, I was hoping you might…’
Mack leant on the doorframe, as if settling in for the night.
I stomped down the irksome, idiot part of me that wanted to join him, both of us leaning on the doorframe and staring at each other until morning.
‘Can I have your broadband code?’
‘You want to poach my broadband?’ That was definitely a smile! Right there, hiding in his beard. ‘Wait here.’
Before I could find the pluck to ask for favour number two, considerably larger than favour number one, he disappeared, returning a minute later with the code written on a scrap of paper.
‘If you go over my limit I’ll want more baked goods as recompense.’
‘Actually…’
He took the paper back.
‘Could I borrow your computer?’
There was a horrible silence while Mack stared at me. I held my breath and bit my lip to prevent jabbering. He had to know this was important, or I wouldn’t have asked. And the only reason I asked him, and not Ellen, or Sarah or Kiko, was because he was the only one who knew about my dire living conditions. Nobody under retirement age existed without Internet access. Or a smartphone. Nobody except losers with nothing of their own, who got fired, had to return their work phone and buy the world’s cheapest non-smart phone, for non-smart people who had made a total mess of things.
I think Mack must have seen something despairing in my eyes, because instead of laughing and slamming the door in my face, or joking about how I’d probably destroy his computer, he didn’t even roll his eyes. ‘When?’
‘Pardon?’
‘When would you like to borrow my computer?’
