Page 32 of Little Wing
‘It’s the rules,’ Nell shrugged. ‘The rules of the café.’
The younger boy tipped back on his chair, glowering at his sandwich.
Nell saw it in slow motion and somehow made it to the chair before it fell right back.
‘Boys! Both of you! Settle down, for goodness’ sake!’ Mum’s little moment of cappuccino heaven had passed. ‘I’m so sorry – they’re revolting.’
‘Oh please,’ said Nell. ‘I’ve seen far worse.’
‘I’ve told you! You can both have a pack once you’ve eaten your sandwiches. Football stickers,’ the mother explained to Nell. ‘I use them for leverage. Tactical bribery for making them eat, wash and shut up.’ She turned to her sons. ‘Both of you will get your football stickers one you’ve eaten your food.’
And then one of their school chums came in and the boys called over, hey, Joe! we’re getting football stickers when we’ve finished our food! Joe’s face lit up and he rushed over to the table.
‘Mum – if Joe eats his food up – can he have a pack?’
‘I think I only have enough for both of you.’ She rummaged around in her bag. Ordered another cappuccino from Nell. Then she turned to the three boys triumphant, and fanned out three packets of stickers. ‘Look! One for each of you! When you three have eaten every last crumb, you willallhave one.’
We were all given a set but I broke my plate. The very day I was given it. Gosh, was I told off.
We each had a set – but Wendy broke her plate the day she got it.
The floor was moving under Nell’s feet and the ceiling was pressing on her head and all the tables and chairs were whirling. The usual cacophony had suddenly dissipated, replaced instead by a searing tone, as if her eardrum had just burst. It felt as if the entire café was in a manic swirl, Nell at the centre, going down a plughole.
‘Are you all right?’
Are they talking to me?
‘Do you need to sit down?’
Who? Me?
She swayed as a hit of adrenaline shot its freezing path around her body before sending the most terrible heat through her.
Florence.
I need to sit down.
Yesterday I was watching walnuts with Frank. Two blackbirds and plenty of walnuts for both. Three blackbirds and enough walnuts for all of them.
Two birds then three.
Two kids then three.
Both of you.
All of you.
Two sisters. No – three.
Nell limped to a chair and sat heavily, unaware of the nonplussed family whose table she was invading.
We were all given them. But Wendy broke hers the day she got it.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Mum, what’s wrong with that lady?’
‘Hello?’
