lemon.
“ You make me feel better,” I said, smiling at her. “Come on, let’s go and squeeze this and I’ll try not to worry any more.” We walked out on to the landing and Mum was there, just standing there holding her hands together really tightly. She sort of jumped when she saw us.
“Oh,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. “Um, do you want anything, girls? A drink or a snack or something?” I looked at Nydia, who shook her head.
“No thanks, Mrs Parker,” she said with her best parents’ smile. Mum nodded and knitted and unknitted her fingers.
“Um, Nydia, were you planning to stay for tea?” she asked. “It’s just that, well, um, today’s not the best day…”
“Mum!” I protested. It wasn’t like her not to let Nydiastay as long as she liked, and I really needed Nydia to help me keep my mind off everything. And besides, I felt like while she was here nothing else could happen. “Why not?” Mum looked at me anxiously, and back at Nydia.
“Because your father and I want to talk to you,” she said, and I knew it was bad. Whenever she refers to my dad as “your father” it’s bad: like when Granddad died, or when, last year, Dad went away and stayed in a hotel for a week to “think about things”.
“What about?” I asked her. “What do you want to talk to me about? What’s happened, Mum?” Mum shook her head and pressed her lips together again.
“We’ll talk again later, OK? Don’t worry. There’ll be plenty of other times for Nydia to come to tea, OK?” She was blinking a lot as she said it. “You don’t mind, do you, Nydia?” Nydia shook her head; her parents’ smile had faded.
“No, I don’t mind, Mrs Parker. No worries!” She looked at me and bit her lip.
“Right, well. I’ll bring you some biscuits then, shall I?”
“Will you squeeze this for us?” I held out the lemon. I felt stupid asking, but Mum nodded and took it, turning her back on me as we headed to the kitchen.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” I said. “It has to be.” Nydia took my hand and led me down the stairs and out into the garden.
“Maybe not,” she said as we sat down on the grass. “Maybe it’s the trial separation again, or maybe they’re going to sell the house because your dad’s got a secret gambling addiction or something…”
“That’s from the show!” I said with half a smile. I looked around the garden and listened to the bees in the grass and the sound of the neighbours’ toddler in the paddling pool, and I shut my eyes tightly for a second and waited for the tears to go back inside my head. “I know,” I said to Nydia. “Let’s talk about our film; we still haven’t thought of a really good ending. So far we’ve only got up to the bit where Justin and I are in the jungle lair of the evil alien who’s about to take over the world…”
And for the next couple of hours we acted like nothing was going to happen. Luckily for me, we’re really good at acting.
3 Briar Walk
Berkhamsted
Herts HP4 3BL
Dear Angel,
You are so brave. I wish I was as brave as you were when you tripped up that trained assassin trying to kill your uncle and bashed him over the head with a priceless antique vase. You saved his life! I really think he should have been more grateful and worried less about the vase.
I am not brave. I am scared of most things. Dogs, spiders, the dark, thunder and cheese. But I can’t say I am because all my friends would laugh and call me a baby. So if I see a dog or a spider, I just pretend not to be scared and try to be brave like Angel, even though I’m not really.
Lots of love,
Lucy James (aged 11)
Ruby Parker
Dear Lucy,
Thank you for your letter, but actually I think you are a bit wrong. I think you are very brave indeed. I know grown-ups (my mum) who are so scared of spiders they can’t even stay in the same room with them!
It’s easy to be brave when I’m playing Angel – because she isn’t afraid of anything. In real life I’m