Page 20 of Clara's Secret Garden
He grins. ‘I’ll definitely pay to watch you in action. Don’tworry. You’ll be great.’
I glance at him in horror. ‘You’d better not be in the audience.I’ll go completely to pieces ifyou’rethere.’
‘What? Why?’ He looks genuinely puzzled. ‘We’re friends,aren’t we?’
‘Yes. Yes, of course.’ I turn away to hide my blushes.
‘I promise I won’t heckle you from the back row.’
‘That’s all right, then.’ I paste on a smile, as the teeny tinygymnasts continue their mad leaps and rolls in my abdomen. I’ll be nervousenough doing a cookery demo in front of strangers – but if Rory’s in theaudience, there’s a chance I might faint into the cake mix!
When we draw up outside Gran’s cottage, Rory keeps theengine idling as the boys and I get out.
‘You aren’t coming in?’ I ask, feeling stupidlydisappointed.
‘Can’t. I need to shoot straight off. I promised to takeElsie to the library.’
I smile, picturing Rory’s youngest sister last time I sawher. Bertie was just starting nursery and I got chatting to Elsie and her mumat the school gates, casually enquiring after Rory, of course. She told me he’dthoroughly enjoyed New Zealand (he’d taken two years out, part way through hislaw degree studies) but that he’d now graduated and was training to be asolicitor. I smiled and nodded, thinking that Rory would be brilliant at that.He was super intelligent and he had that way with people, putting them at theirease. Elsie, who must have been about seven then, hid behind her mum the wholetime, too shy to respond to my gentle questions, beyond a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’. Iremember thinking I was just like her at that age. Wouldn’t say boo to a goose.
‘Is Elsie still into reading, then?’
‘Oh, yes. Always got her nose in a book. She’s only ten andshe puts me to shame.’
‘Good for her.’
‘She gets anxious, though. Mum says sometimes she’s sick inthe morning before school.’
‘Oh, no. Poor thing.’
‘Her shyness holds her back. I wish there was something Icould do to build up her confidence, but...’ He shrugsdespondently.
I nod, knowing only too well the limitations that shyness canbring. I’m better now, but puberty and those teenage years were gruesome. I walkedaround with a permanent blush. Rory looks at his watch. ‘Better dash. But Icould come back the day after tomorrow and do the front lawn?’
‘Really? Are you sure? Because I could do it.’
‘It would take you all day with your gran’s ancient mower.’He grins. ‘Honestly, it’s no problem at all. I’d have to bring Elsie, though?I’ve promised Mum I’ll babysit tomorrow so she can get some work done.’ ‘Ofcourse. I might not have Bertie and Luke that day, though. Won’t she be bored?’
‘No, no. The thing about my sister is she’s great at amusingherself. I wish she had more friends but Mum doesn’t seem overly worried.’
‘She’ll grow out of her shyness eventually, I’m sure.’
‘Hope so. Right. See you soon, then.’ And he zooms off.
The boys run out to play football on the now neat back lawnand I wander into the cottage, thinking about Rory and Elsie. She’s luckyhaving such a lovely, caring big brother. Rory’s mum had Elsie late in life sothere’s obviously a large age gap between her and Rory, and Rory’s othersister, Eve, who’s just a few years younger than Rory.
I stare out of the kitchen window, watching the footballaction.
As Rory left, it was on my mind to ask if he had anythingplanned for tonight. Just out of interest. But something stopped me.
I suppose I should ask him if he’s seeing anyone these days,after his break-up.
I think I’m just a bit afraid of the answer...
CHAPTERSEVEN
Rory joined my school in Year 9, when we were boththirteen. He’d moved to Sunnybrook with his family from a town on the southcoast.
He appeared in some of my classes and I liked him straightaway. Rory was tall, with floppy dark hair and dreamy dark grey eyes, and hewore glasses to see the white board, but not all the time. I guessed that meanthe must wear contact lenses as well.
