Page 78 of Hope and Happiness in Bluebell Wood
‘My helmet looked good at Easter. But I didn’t win a prize.’
‘Yes, your mum said the feather worked well. I’m sorry you didn’t win.’
Robin shrugs. ‘Doesn’t matter. The girl’s hat that won just looked like all the others. I like being different. Are you different?’
‘Sometimes, I guess.’
‘How?’
‘I just think I am. I don’t have many friends, for one thing.’
‘Merlin is your friend, though, isn’t he?’ Robin says, looking with concern at Merlin asleep on the rug.
‘Oh yes, Merlin is my friend.’The best friend I’ve had in a long time.
Robin nods happily at this answer. ‘I don’t have many friends either,’ he says quite matter-of-factly. ‘We’re friends, though, aren’t we?’
‘Yes, of course we are,’ I reassure him. ‘You and your mum are my friends, definitely.’
‘Is the vicar your friend, too?’ Robin asks suddenly.
I hesitate now.
‘He was,’ I answer truthfully. ‘I’m not so sure now.’
‘Did you have a fight?’ Robin asks innocently.
‘I wouldn’t really call it a fight . . . More of a misunderstanding, and he left the cottage quite quickly.’
‘Sometimes I have a fight with the boys and girls in myclass. But the teacher helps us to make up by letting us colour together in the quiet corner. Maybe you should colour with the vicar? You can borrow my special pencils if you like?’
I smile. ‘Thank you. Yes, maybe we could try that sometime.’
‘What else makes you different?’ Robin asks again.
‘Er . . . ’ I struggle a bit now. ‘Well, I don’t like crowds, that’s another thing.’
‘That doesn’t make you different. I don’t like lots of people all talking at once. I can’t hear them properly.’
‘No, it’s not just that.’ Oh, how do I explain this to Robin without going into a lot of detail? ‘I’m scared of being with a lot of people at once. Actually, before I came to live in Bluebell Wood, I was pretty nervous of any people – especially strangers.’
‘Mum says I shouldn’t talk to strangers.’
‘Your mum is right.’
‘But I thought that was because I’m a kid. Why can’t you talk to strangers?’
I hesitate. This was becoming very tricky. I didn’t talk about this with anyone, let alone a young child. But there was something about Robin’s innocence that made me want to tell him the truth.
‘Something happened,’ I say slowly, ‘and it’s made me very nervous of being around people.’
‘What?’ Robin asks inquisitively, looking up at me with big wide eyes.
‘Something that wasn’t very nice at the time; and it’s made me very worried about certain situations.’
To my intense relief, Robin doesn’t immediately ask me any further questions, he just stares out of the window.
‘Birds . . . ’ he says, pointing. ‘On the table.’
