If Harry Met Sally Again_The Perfect Feel-Good Romantic Comedy by Annie Robertson

Author:Annie Robertson [Robertson, Annie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781409189978
Goodreads: 44494296
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2019-04-18T00:00:00+00:00

20

‘This was such a good idea,’ I say to Astrid a few weeks later, looking out from behind our bookstall into the garden of St Matthew’s Church in Brixton. The sound of the steel band carries across the bustling summer fair.

‘Mornin’,’ says Doreen, pitching up beside us with her walking-stick seat. I swear the thing sinks two feet into the grass when she sits on it, leaving her with the appearance that she’s levitating above the ground.

Astrid casts me a glance that asks, ‘Is she here for the rest of the day?’

Doreen reaches into a Tesco bag and produces a giant bag of cheese puffs. ‘‘Fuckin’ hot. I’ll be in me bra soon.’

I’m wrestling with that image when I catch sight of Tilly, charging straight towards us, past the jewellery, earthenware and drum stalls, followed swiftly by Henry and, not quite so swiftly, by Narissa.

‘I didn’t expect to see you here,’ I say to my sister as Henry shows off his new Lightning McQueen by bumping it over the Horrid Henry books. Tilly eyes Doreen cautiously, standing a safe distance away.

‘I read in Elle Décor that Brixton is the new urban revival,’ says Narissa, with no hint of how ridiculously middle class she sounds. ‘I thought it might be good for the children to experience some…’ she looks around before saying, ‘Cultural diversity.’

‘Right,’ I cringe.

‘You know it’s a shame you didn’t buy a flat here instead of renting. I don’t see the appeal myself, but others seem to like and it and you’d have seen a big return.’

‘That’s only relevant if Nina doesn’t intend on staying,’ says Astrid.

‘Well, she’s hardly going to live here for the rest of her life.’ Narissa inches away from Cowboy Steve, who’s loitering at the corner of the stall next to Doreen. ‘Why not?’

‘Because one day she’ll meet someone and have children and want those children to go to a good school in a smart neighbourhood where they’ll mix with people like themselves.’

‘As opposed to…?’

Narissa looks at Doreen, shaking her massive bag of cheese puffs at the kids, and then back at us with an expression that reads, Need I say more? Henry hides behind his mother; Tilly reaches politely for one then examines it as if about to consume a live bug. When the kids are done Doreen rustles the bag at Steve, who sits down beside her and takes a handful.

‘Did your mother seriously give birth to both of you?’ Astrid says.

‘It’s incredible, isn’t it?’ I say. ‘Not only did we come from the same womb but the same home and education system.’

‘And yet here we are, like the before and after of a rags-to-riches story,’ laughs Narissa.

‘Unbelievable,’ says Astrid. ‘Oh, and here’s the woman responsible.’

I look up to see my mother, her face as tight as Melanie Griffiths’, waving excitedly at us.

‘Mum, what a surprise!’

Mum lifts up Tilly, who strokes her skin. ‘You look like a fish, Granny,’ she says, admiringly, as only a five-year-old can.

‘I thought you were practising Botox on

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