She felt as if she was regarding the world from behind a fuzzy mask, or through the wrong end of a telescope; all around her were families – she had none – and children – no – and happy couples giggling and pointing at mistletoe, and here she was piling loads of sprouts into the trolley because Ashok’s relatives were vegetarian, and even though Ashok had assured her that they’d bring food, she was hardly going to greet guests with empty plates and a hopeful expression.
She threw in pâté and stuffing and mounds of potatoes and lots of nuts for the nut roast, and tutted loudly at the ingredients in the mince pies, and added an extra four boxes of crackers. Ashok had insisted on paying for the food, but as many of his relatives didn’t drink either, she reckoned she’d have to do the booze, or perhaps everyone could contribute. She stood in front of the special seasonal shelves of spirits and liqueurs and lots of things she couldn’t imagine people wanting to drink ordinarily, and sighed. She didn’t know how she’d feel on the day; whether her awful black mood would bring everyone else down and she’d have to get a bit squiffy to perk herself up. Or the opposite; she’d be able to put a brave face on it until she’d had a couple of glasses, then she’d be a puddle on the floor.
A woman, younger than her, pushed a buggy into her and grimaced apologetically. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s just so busy.’
‘Not at all,’ said Issy. ‘Not at all. It’s me who was … just standing …’
The woman smiled. ‘Oh, you’re so lucky. If I stop moving, he screams the place down.’
Issy smiled politely. She didn’t feel lucky.
‘So are we going home, or what?’ said Darny. They were back in the New York City Cupcake Store. Kelly-Lee was absolutely triumphant when she saw that Issy had gone.
‘Will she be back soon?’ she asked pointedly. Austin tried to half-smile at her in a distracted way, then forgot about her completely.
‘We can’t go to Issy’s mum’s,’ said Darny. ‘They don’t have Christmas.’
Austin bit his lip. He knew Issy wasn’t staying at his house. He called the number deep into the night, letting it ring on and on, even though he knew it was stupid, and pointless. Although he guessed she must be at Helena’s, he didn’t call there. Just dialled his own number, letting it go, letting himself imagine, just for a second, that she’d creep downstairs in that terrible old fleece he had left over from his diving days, complaining about the cold wooden floors, which creaked everywhere, and stand, bouncing up and down on the tips of her toes, telling him off for ringing her so late when she had to get up so early, then immediately forgiving him.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Merv’s invited us out with his family. If we want to. He said there’ll be millions of them there, we’ll fit right in.’
Darny stared glumly at his stale apple and cinnamon muffin.
‘We won’t,’ he said. ‘We’ll be the weirdo foreigners with the funny accents that everyone wants to pinch.’
‘I know,’ said Austin. ‘But here’s the thing …’
He remembered last year. Giggling under the duvet. Refusing to get dressed, but wearing their ‘formal pyjamas’ that Issy packed away the next day and insisted they could only have on special occasions. Playing chicken with the Quality Streets until only the toffee ones were left. And later, when Darny had gone to bed, Issy had lit the candles and put in her new diamond earrings, and her pale skin had glowed in the light …
Austin blinked twice, hard. No. It was time to come back to reality. To do what he always did: make the best of it. Which meant it was time to break the news to Darny. He took the letter out of his pocket.
‘Here’s the thing, Darny. And I know I’m supposed to be cross with you, but I don’t really know how, because I think, apart from the fact that you’re really, really annoying, that you’re doing brilliantly well.’
‘Shut up,’ said Darny, reading the letter upside down. The swagger left his face and he immediately seemed about two years younger. ‘Expulsion? Really?’
Austin shrugged. ‘Oh come on, Darny, you’ve been asking for it.’
‘True,’ said Darny.
‘You really pushed it with them.’
‘Hmm.’
‘And you hated that school.’
‘I hated that school.’
Darny swallowed. He was, Austin saw, genuinely upset.
‘I thought … I kind of hoped …’
‘What?’
Darny kicked the table leg. ‘It’s stupid …’
‘What?’
Darny grimaced. ‘I thought they might kind of come round … maybe think that kids should have a voice.’
Austin sat back. ‘Tell me this isn’t about your Children Should Vote campaign.’
‘We should,’ said Darny. ‘Nobody listens to us.’
‘That’s all anybody does,’ said Austin. ‘Oh, bloody hell. They’re going to bring this up when you’re bloody prime minister.’
Darny suddenly looked very tiny.
‘I didn’t mean … I didn’t think it would be a big problem for you.’
Austin took perhaps the deepest breath of his life. ‘No,’ he said. ‘No, you didn’t. Because you are eleven, and you can’t think like that yet. But oh, Darny. I really wish you had.’
‘Am I going to have to go to King’s Mount?’ said Darny, with a note of panic in his voice. ‘They skin kids there, Austin. Especially wee kids. Remember that gang who branded all those year sevens?’
‘I do remember,’ said Austin sombrely. King’s Mount was very rarely out of the local paper. ‘And that’s why,’ he glanced round, ‘that’s why I think we’re just going to stay here, Darny. They have amazing schools here, places you wouldn’t believe, that like independent thinkers and do all sorts of amazing, cool things, and you’ll get to meet kids from all over the world, and, well, I really think you’d like it …’
‘We’re staying? In New York?’
Darny looked at him. Austin was prepared for tears, shouting, defiance – anything but this.
‘All right!’ said Darny, punching the air. ‘Can’t be worse than that shit hole. Cool! I wish Stebson could see me now! Living in New York! Yeah! When’s Issy coming back?’