Page 33 of Close to You
‘What does he do?’ Mum asks.
‘I told you,’ I say, before catching myself. In Mum’s world, all pieces of information are new and she definitely doesn’t forget things.
‘You’ve not told me anything,’ she snaps.
David is still pacing back and forth outside the window and there’s no chance of him saving me in the short term.
‘He buys and sells things,’ I say.
Her face falls slightly and her tone sharpens: ‘Like a market trader?’
‘No, Mum,notlike a market trader. It’s high-quality stuff. He buys and sells rare vinyl and books, things like that. He scours the country for collectibles and then sells them on for a profit.’
Mum examines me for a moment before deciding that this is acceptable. ‘He must have a good eye,’ she says. ‘Does he make good money?’
‘I’m not answering that, Mum.’
She shrugs indignantly: ‘Well, you’ll need something. It’s not as if you’ve got a big career plan. When your looks go, what’ve you got left?’
I stare at her, but she’s refusing to meet my gaze. I think about not answering, but that will only make it worse.
‘We support each other,’ I say. ‘He’s been passing around my personal training cards, plus checking out new gyms when he travels. He knows what I’m trying to achieve – and Idohave a career plan, actually.’
Mum harrumphs to make it clear that she believes precisely none of this. Next, she’ll be telling me how she had to walk ten miles uphill through a snowstorm and then hurl herself off a cliff to get to school on time. Obviously, she would do that both ways. I’m not sure where the cliffs are in Gradingham…
Mercifully, the front door clicks and then David reappears in the living room. He crosses to where I am on the sofa and reaches into his pockets before passing over an oblong box. It’s wrapped with silver paper, with a golden bow on top.
‘I know it’s your thirtieth on Tuesday,’ he says, ‘but I figured I’d give you your present a bit early.’
It’s obvious that he’s done this to gain favour with Mum, though I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. For now, I’ll take the distraction.
‘Go on,’ he says as I run my fingers across the join in the paper.
The gift is heavier than it looks and the paper is sealed down with at least a double wrap of tape. It takes me a while to find a join and, when I finally get the paper off, it reveals a crimson plastic box. David is watching my mother as I open the lid to reveal a sparkling silver watch.
‘Ooooh,’ Mum says. ‘That looks expensive.’
I have no idea about watches but have to agree. I think I read somewhere that the value of things like watches and jewellery can often be measured by weight. The heavier something is, the more likely it is to be worth something. I’m not sure how that could apply to a strip of lead painted gold, but it sounds good.
‘Are you sure you can afford this?’ I ask, turning to David. It’s not a problem as such, but he’s still not contributing much to our finances. Or, more to the point,myfinances.
He’s beaming with pride: ‘Of course. I stumbled across a proper trove of records the other week.’
He stretches across and straps the watch to my wrist before I can say anything about it. I’ve never worn a watch with any regularity before – and I’m not sure it’s for me.
Mum instantly reaches for me to get a better look.
‘Your father used to love a good watch,’ she says, before turning to David. ‘Some of my friends have record collections. I can have a word if you want. Perhaps you can go and see if there’s anything worth your while…?’
I start to interrupt but David talks over me: ‘That sounds amazing, Mrs Noble.’
‘It told you, love – it’s Wilma.’ She glances to my watch again and then adds: ‘Do you have your own family?’
‘My mum died when I was young, but Dad ran a collecting business, which I guess is where I get it from.’
Mum nods along: ‘You’re an only child?’
David glances momentarily towards me: ‘I have an older sister. She’s a bit protective of me, though we tend to do our own things.’
