8pm Attend lecture on ‘A History of Victorian Moustaches’
Friday
1am Triangle lesson, grade 5
2am Badminton
3am Archery
4am Fly to Switzerland for ski-jump practice. Learn about eggs from an expert on eggs (TBC) on outbound flight.
6am Do quick ski-jump, and then board inbound flight. Take pottery class on flight.
8am Thai kick-boxing (remember to take skis off before class).
9am to 4pm School
4pm Channel swimming training
5pm Motorbike maintenance workshop
6pm Candle making
7pm Otter rearing class
8pm Television viewing. A choice between either a documentary about carpet manufacturing in Belgium, or a Polish cartoon from the 1920s about a depressed owl.
And that was just the weekdays. The weekends were when things really got busy for Annabelle. No wonder Chloe felt ignored.
“Well, I suppose things at home are…are…” stammered Chloe. She wanted to talk to him about it all, but she wasn’t sure how.
Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!
No, I haven’t lost my mind, readers. That was meant to be the church clock striking four.
Chloe gasped and looked at her watch. Four o’clock! Mother made her do her homework from four until six every day, even in the school holidays when she didn’t have any to do.
“Sorry Mr Stink, I have to go,” she said. Secretly Chloe was relieved. No one had ever asked her how she felt before, and she was beginning to panic…
“Really, child?” said the old man, looking disappointed.
“Yes, yes, I need to get home. Mother will be furious if I don’t get at least a C in Maths next term. She sets me extra tests during the holidays.”
“That doesn’t sound much like a holiday to me,” said Mr Stink.
Chloe shrugged. “Mother doesn’t believe in holidays.” She stood up. “I hope you liked the sausages,” she said.
“They were scrumptious,” said Mr Stink. “Thank you. Unimaginable kindness.”
Chloe nodded and turned to run off towards home. If she took a short-cut she’d be back before Mother.
“Farewell!” Mr Stink called after her softly.
Terrified of being late for homework hour, Chloe began to quicken her pace. She didn’t want her mother to ask questions about where she’d been or who she’d been talking to. Mrs Crumb would be horrified to find out her daughter had been sitting on a bench with someone she would describe as a ‘soap-dodger’. Grown-ups always have a way of ruining everything.
Chloe stopped hurrying, though, when she saw that she was about to pass Raj’s shop. Just one chocolate bar, she thought.
Chloe’s love of chocolate made her one of Raj’s best customers. Raj ran the local newsagent shop. He was a big jolly jelly of a man, as sweet and colourful as his slightly over-priced confectionery. Today, though, what Chloe really needed was some advice.
And maybe some chocolate. Just one bar, of course. Maybe two.
“Ah, Miss Chloe!” said Raj, as she entered the shop. “What can I tempt you with today?”
“Hello, Raj,” said Chloe smiling. She always smiled when she saw Raj. It was partly because he was such a lovely man, and partly because he sold sweets.
“I have some Rolos on special offer!” announced Raj. “They have gone out of date and hardened. You may lose a tooth as you chew into one, but at 10p off you can’t really argue!”
“Mmm, let me think,” said Chloe scouring the racks and racks of confectionery.
“I had half a Lion bar earlier, you are welcome to make me an offer on the other half. I’ll take anything upwards of 15p.”
“I think I’ll just take a Crunchie, thanks Raj.”
“Buy seven Crunchie bars you get an eighth Crunchie bar absolutely free!”
“No thanks, Raj. I only want one.” She put the money down on the counter. 35p. Money well spent considering the nice feeling the chocolate would give her as it slipped down her throat and into her tummy.
“But Chloe, don’t you understand? This is a unique opportunity to enjoy the popular chocolate-covered honeycomb bar at a dramatic saving!”
“I don’t need eight Crunchie bars, Raj,” said Chloe. “I need some advice.”
“I don’t think I am really responsible enough to give out advice,” replied Raj without a hint of irony. “But I’ll try.”
Chloe loved talking to Raj. He wasn’t a parent or a teacher, and whatever you said to him, he would never judge you. However, Chloe still gulped slightly, because she was about to attempt another little lie. “Well, there’s this girl I know at school…” she began.
“Yes? A girl at school. Not you?”
“No, somebody else.”
“Right,” said Raj.
Chloe gulped again and looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “Well, this friend of mine, she’s started to talk to this tramp, and she really likes talking to him, but her mother would blow a fuse if she knew, so I—I mean, my friend—doesn’t know what to do.”
Raj looked at Chloe expectantly. “Yes?” he said. “And what is your question exactly?”
“Well Raj,” said Chloe. “Do you think it’s wrong to talk to tramps?”
“Well, it’s not good to talk to strangers,” said Raj. “And you should never let anyone give you a lift in a car!”
“Right,” said Chloe, disappointed.
“But a tramp is just somebody without a home,” continued Raj. “Too many people walk on by and pretend they’re not there.”
“Yes!” said Chloe. “That’s what I think too.”
Raj smiled. “Any of us could become homeless one day. I can see nothing wrong with talking to a tramp, just like you would anyone else.”
“Thanks Raj, I will…I mean, I’ll tell her. This girl at school, I mean.”
“What’s this girl’s name?”
“Umm…Stephen! I mean Susan…no, Sarah. Her name is Sarah, definitely Sarah.”
“It’s you, isn’t it?” said Raj smiling.
“Yes,” admitted Chloe after a millisecond.
“You are a very sweet girl, Chloe. It’s lovely that you would take the time to talk to a tramp. There but for the grace of God go you and I.”
“Thanks, Raj.” Chloe went a little red, embarrassed by his compliment.
“Now what can you buy your homeless friend for Christmas?” said Raj as he scoured around his disorganised shop. “I have a box full of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles stationery sets I can’t seem to