All the Invisible Things by Orlagh Collins

Author:Orlagh Collins
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781408888322
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2018-12-21T16:00:00+00:00

We catch a C2 to Oxford Circus and it’s impossible not be swept up by Arial’s excitement as she chats away, leaning her head on my shoulder the whole time. For a couple of hours, we trail in and out of shops and I almost forget about my one-sided screaming match with Pez, my kiss with Rob, March’s tears and what she meant by it’s one for face-to-face. We hit the kids’ floor at Zara, where Arial picks out a blue jumpsuit covered in tiny gold stars and after we choose some matching gold plimsolls, there’s just enough of Dad’s money left for the green, tea-length vintage dress I find downstairs at Topshop and I pick up a few other bits of clothes with my own money too. Arial says the colour of the dress complements my hair, which is nice and everything, but I can’t help thinking that there might be something more interesting in one of Mum’s boxes that I could have had for free.

Afterwards we go to the huge Boots on Regent Street, where I spend far too long studying hair removal products. If I’m ever to do more than kiss Rob, this area of my body clearly needs major attention. I eventually opt for some bikini hair removal cream for sensitive skin that promises confidence and smoothness for twenty-eight days, which, if it delivers, is good going for seven quid. I sample some perfumes afterwards, but I’ve already thought of a better use for what’s left of my wages. It’s been on my mind since Arial walked out of my bedroom a few hours ago. It’s obviously time that her puberty curiosity was handled by more capable hands than mine so I’m calling in some old-school backup. We hop on a bus going home but we don’t get off at our usual stop. We’ve walked halfway up Kentish Town Road and are stopped outside Peanut Butter Books before she notices.

‘What kind of book?’ she asks.

I hold the door open and she passes under my arm. ‘You’ll see.’

She rolls her eyes. ‘I don’t even like reading,’ she says.

I think about pointing out how much she likes stories and being read to, but my stomach drops when I see the guy with the glasses I asked for a job. Apart from a woman browsing the bestsellers near the window we’re his only customers. He’s sitting at the computer with a book and his gaze flicks between the two. It’s a while before he spots us hovering. ‘Can I help?’

I think about mumbling I’m fine, but I could be ages trying to find what I want and having Arial in tow, I’m determined to up my game. She wriggles away and starts rifling through gift items on a display table. ‘Can I have these?’ she shouts out, holding up a glittery box.

I ignore her and return to the guy, who I sense might recognise me. ‘Yes, please,’ I say, trying to sound at least vaguely grown-up. ‘I’d like a recommendation.

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