Page 81 of One Summer

‘Yes, I won’t be long. Sorry, I didn’t hear you knock on the front door!’

‘Can you hurry up?’ she says. ‘I’ve got a few bags of shopping for you.’

‘Oh, thanks! Won’t be a sec.’

I try to get out of the YouTube app, but my phone is not cooperating.

‘Why are you taking so long?’

‘Secondary wee,’ I say, desperately trying to get Max’s frozen smile off my screen. ‘You know, when you think you’re done, but there’s a bit more hiding up in your bladder.’

Why are we talking about this? Why am I talking about my bodily functions to Betty, a person I hardly know?

‘Have you had a baby?’ she asks. ‘Has it done in your bladder?’

‘You can’t ask me that,’ I say. ‘That’s personal. But no.’

‘Are you ever coming out? My arms are falling off.’

I finish up, wash my hands and go to unlock the front door.

‘Were you checking up on your ex again?’ she asks, handing me the bags from Edie, which will go on my Hide and Chic account.

How did she know? Is she telepathic? Is she a witch? Is there CCTV in my bathroom?

‘No,’ I say, unconvincingly.

‘You’re addicted. It’s like choosing to eat a doughnut that you know contains broken glass. It’s bad for you. You have to stop.’

‘I know,’ I say, quietly. ‘But I don’t know how.’

‘You do know. You just have to decide to stop. Not forever, just for now. You just need to get through today. Tell yourself that every day and see what happens. Anyway, there’s chemistry between you and Caleb, isn’t there?’

‘Um, no,’ I say, horrified at the thought, but trying to hide it, since he’s her grandson and she might be offended. ‘Where are you getting that from?’

‘There’s this tension. Everybody’s noticed it.’

‘No there isn’t, and no they haven’t,’ I say. ‘We’re just neighbours.’

She hums to herself, before asking, ‘What is it that Greta says on her show? Her catchphrase when she’s out metal detecting?’

I could pretend I don’t know, that I haven’t watched dozens of her videos since finding her holding hands with Max, but I can’t bring myself to lie to Betty.

Betty holds up an index finger and then taps her temple. ‘I remember, it’s: “always investigate the quiet signals.” That’s it. She’s always telling her viewers not to just listen to “the screamers”, the strong signals blasting out of the detector – you have to investigate the quiet signals, too, because sometimes they lead to the most valuable treasure.’

‘I don’t understand the relevance.’

‘Yes, you do,’ Betty says. ‘Because maybe you should be listening to the quiet signals. From your heart.’

‘I’d imagine they’re mostly electrical pulses, if they’re happening within my heart muscle.’

‘I meant metaphorically,’ she says, pursing her lips. ‘Don’t overlook the quiet signals. That’s all I’m saying. Not a lecture, just a thought.’

‘Okay, thought received… and disregarded.’

‘How did I get so wise?’ she muses, and then answers her own question with: ‘Probably all the drugs I took in the seventies.’

‘Did you really take drugs?’

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