Page 23 of The Best Friend
‘We’re going to miss my paycheck, too,’ I say gloomily. ‘Especially now, with you starting your new business and everything.’
‘Don’t worry about the money,’ Jared says. ‘We’ll be loaded soon.’
I try not to roll my eyes at his words. Hopefully, this time, it really could be more than blind optimism talking.
‘Why don’t you get back to writing your novel?’ he says. ‘You’ve been saying you want to finish it for years. Now you’ll have more time.’
‘I suppose I could try,’ I say. ‘I’ll need to be more disciplined and write a bit every day, or it’ll never get done.’
‘So, do it,’ he says.
My disappointment lifts a little. Jared’s right. I should look at this as an opportunity. And yet I still feel flat. Like someone has steamrollered over my life. Like I’ve failed somehow, and there’s nothing new left out there for me…
Ten
Summer 1993
Nicole’s mum lurched into the lounge where Nicole and Callum were sprawled on the carpet watching some boring kids’ science programme. It was the only thing on telly apart from sport or the news.
‘Go down the shops and get me some crisps,’ her mum said, holding out a crumpled five-pound note. ‘I got no change so you’ll have to take this. And take your brother with you.’
Nicole’s stomach rumbled. Did she dare ask Mum if they could get something to eat? There was no food left in the house. Not even any tins of beans or packets of cereal. She stood up and nudged Callum with her toe. He got to his feet, eyes still glued to the TV screen.
‘Shall I get us some food?’ she asked. ‘For tea?’
Mum’s eyes narrowed. Nicole’s stomach clenched, waiting to see if the question had angered her.
‘Get a tin of something,’ Mum said. ‘Mind it doesn’t cost more than 50p, and get some milk and bread ‘n’ all.’
Nicole relaxed her shoulders and edged over to take the money. Her thumb and forefingers grasped the note, but her mum still held it tight. ‘I want change,’ she snapped, her gin breath hot and bitter.
Nicole nodded quickly and her mum released the five-pound note. Nicole stuffed the cash into the pocket of her school cardigan, and she and Callum scuttled out of the flat, clattering down the concrete stairs and out into the sunny afternoon.
‘We having spaghetti hoops, Nic?’ Callum asked.
‘Yeah.’
Callum grinned and did a skid on his knees.
‘You get a hole in your trousers and Mum will skin your backside.’
Callum got up off the dusty pavement and wiped at the front of his school uniform.
‘No hole – look.’
‘Yeah, whatever.’
As they walked the half mile to the local Kwik Save, Nicole came up with a plan. She was smiling when they reached the store. Callum made to go inside but she dragged him back by his shirt.
‘Wait, dipshit.’
‘What?’
‘Come over here a minute.’ Nicole walked over to a clump of bushes at the edge of the supermarket car park and sat on the wall, kicking at the bricks with the heels of her shoes. Callum climbed up beside her. She took the fiver out of her pocket. Then, she shrugged off her cardigan and held the garment out to her brother. ‘Put that on.’
‘I ain’t wearing that. It’s girls’ clothes.’
‘Put it on or I’ll give you a Chinese burn.’
