Page 19 of From Now On

Duke eyes her suspiciously. He isn’t sure he can trust her after the whole cookie thing. She had promised that no one would die.

Grown-ups don’t know everything.

‘What if we watch a video and find out what’s involved before you decide?’ Pippa asks.

Duke shrugs. ‘Yeah. Okay.’ Because what else does he have to do? Usually if he had free time he’d play his sax but he vows to never play again.He doesn’t deserve the joy it brings him. He ate the cookie dough. He caused this and he deserves to feel terrible forever.

‘Come on, Duke—’ Pippa gently nudges him ‘—let’s set your mobile up and see what it can do.’

Duke hands it to Pippa, not really caring what it can do, because the thing he wants it to do the most of all is impossible. It’s a piece of plastic, not a magic wand.

It’ll be rubbish.

Everything is rubbish.

His phone is brilliant. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t have anybody to ring, although Pippa has put her own, Charlie’s and Nina’s numbers in the contact list and he’s going to ask Sasha for hers. It plays music and games and taught him and Pippa how to make a wind chime from the shells. They had to boil them first and then carefully make a hole with a drawing pin. His heart beat so fast as Pippa twisted the sharp point around the edge of the first shell sure it would shatter, but it didn’t. Now the chime hangs outside of their front door. It doesn’t really make a noise but it looks good.

Afterwards he helps Pippa cook lunch. He’s a good cook. He’s been helping Mum for years, peeling their home-grown vegetables. Growing stuff was one of the ‘fun’ activities Duke’s mum came up with to make learning interesting. At first he didn’t like the way his shoulders ached after digging or the damp feel of the earth under his fingernails but then his carrots began to grow and he still remembers the elation he felt as they served them up for dinner.

‘Three small sticks each? What are we, miniature rabbits?’ Nina had muttered.

But the next year they’d made their patch larger and the vegetables had grown bigger and he’d added cabbages and runner beans and courgettes. They’d also grown potatoes in a bin that his dad called ‘Dusty’, for some reason.

Today, the carrots Duke washes under the tap are in a plastic bag – something Mum wouldn’t have approved of – and have come from Tesco. As he scrapes them he wonders if he will plant anything this year, if Charlie will help with the digging.

Thoughts of life continuing without Mum, seeds sprouting, vegetables growing, are so incomprehensible, so confusing, that he drops the carrot in the sink and stares up at the sky. How can it still be there? Still be blue?

The world is still turning and he wants to shut it out.

He runs towards the stairs, wanting to hide under his covers. He slows when he passes the music room. Those swirling letters on the wall taunting him.

All The Things You Are.

Scared. Scared. Scared.

Pippa had persuaded Duke to come downstairs for lunch. They all sit around the table. Sasha talks too much, filling in the silence. She tries to engage Nina in conversation about music, but music is the last thing any of them want to be reminded of. Pippa changes the subject, asking Sasha what new books are being published this year.

‘I had a new series of wizard books but they all fell on my head,’ she says, eyes on Duke.

‘Fell on your head?’

‘Yeah. I only had myshelfto blame.’

Duke laughs.

Then he remembers why Sasha is here and his parents aren’t and he shovels a forkful mashed potato into his mouth and wishes he could stuff his laughter back inside. Miserably, he spears a piece of leek and it flies from his plate, landing on the floor where a grateful Billie hoovers it up.

‘How long have you been an editor?’ Pippa says.

‘Eight years now. I started off as an assistant and worked my way up. What is it you do?’

‘I’m working in a care home right now, it’s only temporary though. You’d have thought I’d have had enough nursing after Grandma but… it’s not a vocation but I do enjoy it and it gets me out the house.’

‘I like being in the house. Working from home is one of my favourite things about being an editor. The fact I can read anywhere.’

‘So, you’ll be working from here?’ Duke is hopeful.

‘Sorry, kiddo—’ Sasha ruffles his hair – why do adults keep doing that? It’s annoying. ‘—I’ve got a breakfast meeting on Monday. I’ll be leaving tomorrow night.’

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