Just One More Day by Susan Lewis

Author:Susan Lewis [Susan Lewis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2007-04-05T04:00:00+00:00

Susan

The trouble with Gary is he’s never any good at playing shops. He always wants to buy things he can eat straight away, like biscuits or jam tarts, but that’s not how you play. He’s supposed to buy things I can put in a carrier bag for him, like tins of beans and jars of fish paste, but what I really want him to buy is some flour or sugar, so I can weigh them on Mum’s weighing scales.

‘But I don’t want any flour,’ he tells me angrily.

‘Yes you do.’

‘No I don’t. Flour’s stupid.’

I’ve got the bag in my hands, ready to tip into the scales. ‘Just buy some flour,’ I say, ‘and then I’ll sell you a Wagon Wheel.’

‘But I haven’t got enough money for some flour as well.’

‘I’ll let you buy it for a penny.’

‘I’ve only got tuppence and just now you said a Wagon Wheel was tuppence.’

‘Well it’s gone down now, sir. Wagon Wheels are only a penny today.’

‘Then I want two Wagon Wheels.’

I tip up the bag and start filling the scales. ‘That’s four ounces of flour, sir. Will there be anything else?’

‘I said I don’t want any,’ he shouts.

‘You have to!’

‘No! I’m not playing any more.’

His fists are clenched ready to thump me, so I pick up the scales and empty the flour over his head. ‘There, that’s what you get for not playing properly,’ I tell him.

‘Mum! Mum!’ he chokes, flour going everywhere. ‘Mum! I can’t see.’

‘It serves you right,’ I say, starting to giggle, because he looks really funny, like one of the Black and White Minstrels, but the other way round.

‘What on earth’s going on out here?’ Mum says, coming into the kitchen. ‘Can’t you two play nicely for . . . Oh my Lord! Gary, come here!’

She grabs him and starts thumping his back. He’s still choking and I can’t stop laughing.

‘Breathe!’ she tells him. ‘Breathe.’

‘I am,’ he coughs.

She gets some water and makes him drink it. He splutters a bit, then stops choking, but he’s crying now because he still can’t see, so Mum sits him up on the draining board and washes the flour out of his eyes. ‘Look at you,’ she says. ‘You’re covered. It’s all in your hair, your ears, and just look at your clothes . . .’

‘Susan did it,’ he wails. ‘She threw it over me because I wouldn’t buy it.’

‘I’ll be dealing with her as soon as we’ve got these clothes off.’

She strips him down to his pants and I creep back into the pantry to hide behind the potato sack in a very dark corner. She knows where I am though, because the next thing I know I’m being hauled out by the arm.

‘You naughty girl,’ she cries, smacking my legs. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! It really hurts and I’m screaming.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ she says. ‘He could have choked, and you’re old enough to know better.’

Smack! Smack! Smack!

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ I cry. ‘I didn’t mean to . . .’

‘Look at the bloody mess you’ve made.

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