Page 42 of Knowing You
‘She was horrid about your Uncle Kevin, remember.’ Flint shrugs. ‘If it was me I’d get her back big time for that. The worst thing that could happen is that she might catch fire a little and have to strip off her dress.’
I can’t help giggling at the thought of Alice standing in the playground in her stupid bra. We’re only seven but her mum bought this fancy matching underwear and she struts around in the PE changing rooms acting like a pop star. She called me a baby for wearing Eeyore knickers.
‘A firework would be really hard to find, though,’ he says. ‘We need to find another way you can scare her.’
Alice keeps going on about a party she is going to on Fireworks Night. It’s at the house next to hers. She plays with the children even though they are older than her. Alice fits in at school and out. Nothing will ever break her popularity.
But I did hear Alice saying she isn’t going to a display because she hates loud noises. Flint’s given me an idea. I remember Uncle Kevin’s fun snaps. I still have a box in my bedroom.
I say goodbye to Flint after we’ve played tag and think about next Friday. Flint reckons the idea of fun snaps is a bit tame but says to throw them at her during lunch. Hopefully the shock will make her choke. He’s right. If they really frighten her, it will be a good payback. She’d know how Uncle Kevin felt when those planes crashed into his tower.
I wish the nightmares would stop. A few weeks ago I even wet the bed. But Mum didn’t get cross. She asked me to tell her about the dream. It’s always the same. Uncle Kevin is trapped inside the tower. At a window. He looks down at me. We wave. I feel sick with panic that I can’t help him. He starts crying and takes off his jacket. The flames get nearer. He calls out in pain. With one last wave, he mouthsI love youand then climbs outside the window and I wake up in a sweat.
It’s Alice’s fault that I have these nightmares and that makes me more determined to teach her a lesson.
Enough is enough.
Flint is right.
Next Friday I’ll need to try something even scarier than the spider.
As he says, it’s only fair that I make her jump as well.
Chapter 18
I walk into the Frog and Duck brushing my fingers against my lips, still shell-shocked that Casey Wilde’s mouth has almost been there. I had to ring Kath and say I’d meet them at the pub instead of the retirement home as usual. After Casey left, I went into Foyles to browse and lost track of time buying a book about dating and then sitting in the cafe enjoying a black coffee. I did find it hard to resist the scrumptious looking sandwiches and cakes. It’s difficult now, as time passes, to stick to my super healthy plan.
However, I know it’s the right thing to do. Getting closer to Casey today has already proved that. A man like him wouldn’t have looked twice at me before. I shouldn’t feel validated by that attention, but it’s impossible not to be swayed by something you always assumed was out of reach. Flint thought I was cool but we were only ever best friends and the boys at primary and high school never looked at me as anything more than different Violet who was clever and never spoke much. Now and then a boy would admire my maths knowledge and I’d help out with homework. Plus, a boy and I in year eleven used to talk passionately at lunchtime about an obsession with Manga that we’d both developed. And in the sixth form, I became quite close to Brett, who could relate to that sense of being on the outside of things looking in. I was the book nerd. He was gay. Somehow we were a good fit.
It’s like the many books, over the years, that have attracted my attention due to an eye-catching cover. Their appearance has meant I’ve discovered new favourite genres and authors that I might have otherwise passed over.
Why couldn’t I see before that looks do really matter?
I wave to the flirty barman who remembers me from last time. I go over to my friends and we hug. I half-listen to them speak as my mind replays my morning in the park. I ask if anyone needs a top-up before getting myself a gin and slimline tonic.
When I get back to the table, the conversation hushes. I know from the way I was treated at school that they’ve been talking about me.
‘We can’t wait to show you more blog posts we’ve drafted,’ says Pauline in a cheery voice and opens the laptop. ‘Kath’s latest review is just brilliant. It’s for a book calledReasons to Stay Alive.’
‘It really resonated with me after working as a mental health nurse during the latter years of my career,’ says Kath.
‘We just need a bit of help working out how to edit them once they are published,’ continued Pauline. ‘Plus we could do with any useful suggestions for which Twitter accounts to follow.’
Kath takes out a present and card from her bag. ‘It’s okay, I know you are busy, so I forged your signature,’ she whispers. Of course. It was Pauline’s birthday last Wednesday. Kath told me about it a couple of weeks ago. How could I have forgotten? Over the last few months, I’ve always been the one to buy the present and card from me and Kath if anyone has had a celebration. And because of Kath’s stiff fingers, I’ve done the wrapping.
‘Sorry, I completely forgot,’ I whisper back as Pauline eagerly opens the present – a box set of a new detective series she’d not stopped raving about.
Kath squeezes my arm under the table and her hand wraps easily around my wrist. A flicker of – I’m not sure what – crosses her features.
We chat about the blog and then move onto our own lives. I tell them about the little boy who got stung. They are more curious about Casey.
‘So what did you have for lunch?’ asks Nora. ‘Asparagus, I hope. It’s an aphrodisiac.’
‘Just ignore us,’ says Kath and shakes her head. ‘You’re entitled to your privacy.’
Pauline leans forward. ‘But there’d be no harm in showing us a photo – have you got one of him on your phone?’
‘No,’ I replied, wishing I had.
