Page 7 of From Now On

Duke looks to Charlie. He’s an adult; he should know what to say, what to do, but it seems he doesn’t.

‘Have you made any books lately?’ Duke speaks first. They can’t justsithere.

‘I don’t make the books, Duke. I’m a literary agent. Remember, I explained it to you last time?’

Duke shakes his head. Last time was ages ago and Duke doesn’t remember the details.

‘Writers send their books to me and I read them and if I think they’re any good I send them to a publisher to ask if they might like to print them.’

‘Why don’t people send their books straight to the publishers?’ Duke doesn’t quite understand the point of Charlie.

‘Because the publishers are very busy and they don’t have time to read everything.’

Duke is sometimes very busy – he thinks of the endless columns on his reward chart on the fridge – but he always has time for books. He even gets stars for reading, which is silly because it isn’t as if it’s boring like the washing-up or folding his clothes.

‘What if you like something and the publisher doesn’t?’

‘That happens sometimes. Then—’

‘And what if you don’t like something and don’t send it but the publisher would have loved it?’ It doesn’t make sense to Duke. ‘Mum said you wanted to write a book once?’

Charlie looks surprised. Duke wonders if this is a secret like when Nina snuck out of the window at night last week to meet someone and made him promise not to tell.

‘Yeah, but…’ Charlie shrugs.

‘I didn’t know you wanted to write?’ For some reason Sasha is combing Nina’s eyebrows – girlsarestupid.

‘When I was younger but then…’

‘Then what?’

‘Something. Nothing,’ Charlie says but that doesn’t make sense. How can something be nothing? ‘Sasha works in publishing too.’

‘I’m an editor,’ Sasha says.

‘What’s one of those?’

‘It’s like when your teacher corrects your work with a red pen.’

‘I don’t go to school.’

‘Why not?’

‘It wouldn’t suit me. I’m not the right personality. Nina goes because Mum says she needs the stimulation but I’m better off at home. I wouldn’t be happy there.’

‘But you went to school, Charlie?’ Sasha asks. ‘Yes, you must have because you said you went with Pippa. It’s strange I know literally everything about you now but hardly anything about your childhood. Did you—’

‘Nina!’ Charlie says in a fake voice. ‘You look so grown-up now.’

Nina glows under Charlie’s praise. Sasha beams too. They don’t seem to realize that he is just trying to change the subject. Mum does that a lot and Duke is well-practised at recognizing it and trying to change it back. Sasha hands Nina the mirror.

‘I don’t look like me.’ Nina’s fingers touch her face as though she’s reassuring herself that she is real. When she tears her eyes away from the mirror she glares at Duke.

‘What are you laughing at?’ But Duke isn’t laughing; he’s smiling because Nina had been too, and she doesn’t smile as much as she used to. It’s as if Sasha has painted over the hormones and Duke can imagine them struggling to break free under the sparkly silver that surrounds Nina’s eyes. Their tiny hormone feet sticking to the shiny stuff on her lips.

‘All dolled up and nowhere to go,’ Sasha says. ‘Shall we order some pizza for lunch and watch a movie? Have our own party.’

‘We don’t have a TV,’ Duke says.

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