Page 5 of The App Trap
“Aw, it’s comments like those that will always secure you as my second favourite son.”
She kissed the top of my head and puffed out a semi-laugh. She was back in the room.Sort of.
“I’m leaving the house to the cat, anyway.”
“Good, cos Lilla’s on her way out and I’m her favourite. She always hangs about in my room anyway, so I’ll definitely be next in line.”
“She only hangs out with you because she likes getting stoned.”
“What? How, did… I thought you couldn’t smell?”
“Just because I haven’t got a sense of smell, doesn't mean I’m an idiot. I know what a roach looks like. You forget that your mother was a lot cooler than you.”
“Burn.”
“Speaking of boys, what are you doing about getting yourself a bloody man? You’ve been on your own for far too long.”
“Ah well, funny you should mention that. This is an area of my life that I’m currently working on,” I said, proudly.
“Well, graft harder. I just want you to be happy. Anyway, don’t have nightmares. I’ll see you in the morning,” said Mum as she kissed my forehead and left the room.
“Ooh, looks like someone wants to get high,” she continued, as the cat zigzagged through her legs and into my room.
“Night!” I said, shooing her away and lighting up a big old bifta.
Chapter
Four
As the morning sun smooched the pavement the following day, Finn and I went to our favourite independent sandwich outlet in a glowering mood. The only thing that would raise our chins from the floor would be the best bacon and sausage baguette in South-West London that only‘Donny’s’could provide.
We stood quietly at the counter for a few minutes, waiting for the other customers to move, until Finn spoke.
“I dunno, man. I don't know whether to believe her. You know how protective of us she is. Even if shewasdying, she’d never tell us. We’ll just have to go to the hospital with her for the chemo sessions and find out exactly what’s going on for ourselves.”
“Oh, for sure. She’s a sly old dog. She was touching my elbow as well, doing herNLPtricks on me so that I wouldn’t worry. I know her game,” I told Finn.
He jolted.
“Yes! She was pulling all that stuff on me too,” said Finn, weighing a hefty‘Why I oughtta…’fist.
“Eat in or takeaway?” asked the attractive, newbarista, tucking a thick plaited strand of his curly blond hair behind his ear.
“Er… takeaway please,” I replied, picking up the delicious-smelling packages of bread and sizzled pig.
We went to sit down, and within seconds, the attractive new barista approached our table with a tight-lipped smile that seemed completely disinterested in connecting with his beautiful blue eyes.
“You can’t sit there, I’m afraid. You paid for takeaway.”
“So?” said Finn.
“So… it costs 40p more to eat in. Each.”
“Look, here's a whole pound. All right now?” said Finn, forcing the coin into his hand––no doubt too annoyed to comment how unexpectedly soft and marshmallow-like his palm was, judging from the look he gave me. He must moisturise.
“No. It’s too late. I can’t run that through the till now. You paid for takeaway, so I’m afraid you’ll have to take your sandwiches away.”
Finn was about to blow a mushroom cloud out of each ear, but I lovingly patted his arm to calm him down.
