Mitchell wished he’d kept the letters Anita and Poppy sent him. If he could go back in time, he’d cover whole pages with words and kisses. He’d never forget to send them.
Poppy kneeled back down on the floor. “Shall we read another one of Susan’s letters? That pink one looks romantic.”
“I think I’d had enough of them for one day. Let’s look through your window before bedtime instead.”
Half an hour later, they stood on her bed with their faces outside in the fresh air. Poppy’s pajama top was inside out and she wore her new pug pendant.
“What would you like to do tomorrow?” Mitchell asked as he looked up at the moon. “Maybe the library, or a museum?”
Poppy threw a piece of her crust to three pigeons that were strutting around the rooftop. “Um, can I go to the park with Rachel instead?”
Mitchell tried to picture his plan in the hallway of what he’d scheduled in for the day. He’d have to readjust it. “I suppose I could take you both there.”
“It’ll be with Rachel’s mum. There’s giant inflatables and a hot dog stand. Rachel said the sausages are so big they hang out of their bun. They said they’d pick me up at ten thirty.”
Mitchell raised an eyebrow at her. “So, this is already arranged?”
She nodded meekly. “I bumped into them in a shop. We made a plan.”
Mitchell had looked forward to spending the day with her. However, if he was the same age and had a choice between a museum or bouncy castles and junk food, there’d be no contest. He liked how she’d inherited his planning gene.
“Okay, Dad?”
“Yes, it’s fine,” he replied. “But try to give me advance notice next time so I can readjust our schedules.”
After tucking Poppy into bed for the night, Mitchell went into the sitting room and picked up the pink envelope that looked romantic. When he opened the flap, he was surprised to see a wedding invitation covered in pink heart-shaped sequins from his schoolmate, Graham. He assumed Carl must have taken delivery of the card and placed it in the bag of letters, among all the others.
Graham Gates and Rosie Gillespie are getting married at 2:00 p.m., Jupiter Hotel, Upchester on 28th July. Please tick and complete the following,
I will/won’t be there
I like cake
I prefer cheese
If I could listen to any song while riding a dragon into battle it would be
I have a dietary requirement, which is
PS: We know it’s very short notice, so if you can’t reply in time, just show up on the day!
Mitchell frowned at it, not having known Graham was even dating. He hadn’t seen his friend for ages, and it wasn’t like him to send such a sparkly, silly-looking invite. The wedding was in just over two weeks’ time.
Graham had lived with his mother for many years until she’d died a couple of years ago. When he wasn’t glued to his PlayStation, Graham had dedicated his time to taking her out to garden centers, and for afternoon tea. He called her his best friend, which didn’t go down well with any women he sporadically dated.
Mitchell couldn’t recall Graham having had a serious girlfriend for a long time, and he wondered if Rosie shared his friend’s interests of gaming, graphic novels and sci-fi conventions.
As he traced a finger over the sequins, Mitchell felt a thickness in his throat that his friend’s life had taken this major upturn without him realizing. He had been so wrapped up in his own grief over Anita that he hadn’t checked in with Graham much after his mother’s death. He had let their friendship slide.
When Mitchell picked up his pen, he thought back to the carefree times he and Graham spent together when they were kids and he knew he should have been a better friend. He guiltily filled in his reply.
I will be there
I like cake (AND CHEESE)
If I could listen to any song while riding a dragon into battle it would be “(K)NIGHTS IN WHITE SATIN”
I have a dietary requirement, which is LOTS OF GREAT FOOD
As Mitchell read over his answers, a smile twitched his lips. A feeling flooded over him of wanting to get away from his apartment and the city for a while and to try to make some amends. If Poppy was going out with Rachel tomorrow, and Liza was speaking to her family, he would enjoy his own spare time, too.
He decided to RSVP to Graham in person.
16
SWING
Back when they went to school together, Graham had been one of those kids who wore a hand-me-down uniform from his brother, so the sweater wool balled on the elbows and the sleeves hung down over his fingertips. “My mum says I’ll grow into it,” he said, when other kids laughed at him, and that was how he got the moniker Grow-Into-It-Graham.
There had been a hierarchy at the school, imposed by kids who had wealthy parents, were good-looking, or who passed their exams with ease. Graham was assigned to the group of outcast kids who were overweight, nerdy, poor or spotty.
Mitchell found himself positioned somewhere between the elite and the outcasts. He got stick for the size of his nose, but there were other pupils who attracted more malicious attention. Katie Broadbottom had a problem with both body odor and an unfortunate name, and Andy Timmons once peed on the floor of the sports hall by accident.
Mitchell and Graham didn’t get to know each other properly until they were thirteen, when Mitchell happened across Graham in the woods close to their school. He was attempting to make a swing out of an old rubber tire and kept trying to toss the rope over a tree branch. He did it ten times before he lost his patience and kicked the tire.
Mitchell stepped out from behind the trees. “You need to add weight to the end of that rope, or get someone up the tree to catch it for you,” he said.
Graham gawped, unused to other kids talking to him.
“I’ll climb and you throw.” Mitchell shimmied up the tree trunk with ease and caught the rope when Graham threw it. He looped it around the branch, pulled on it and tied a firm knot.
The two boys spent a fun afternoon pushing each other on the swing and spinning around, until two other boys from their school year approached them.
“Spider” Spencer and his friend, Birchy, shoved Graham clean off the swing. He landed flat on his back and breath wheezed out of his lungs. They laughed as he writhed in agony on the ground.
Mitchell quickly scaled a tree and stealthily spread himself along a high up branch, like a panther observing its prey. He weighed up the best course of action and dropped down onto Spider’s back and clung on with gritted teeth, pummeling his fist into Spider’s face. Spider spun around so Mitchell felt like he was on a bucking bronco, but he held on.