Page 11 of Elodie's Library of Second Chances

Puppet masters not too happy to find you MIA. Guess they didn’t take you seriously, but are we surprised? I told them you’re in an ashram in India seeking enlightenment. Namaste.

Will they buy the ashram idea?

Leaving my Astor mobile phone at home has been a weight off my shoulders. If I’d taken it my parents would be calling me every five minutes and my resolve might have crumbled already. A clean break was needed, and it’s been bliss having a phone that only Teddy knows the number to so far.

I hit reply:Tell them I’m meditating and searching for enlightenment, which might take some time as I have a lot of past lives to work through. Have they let you return to Astor?

A few moments later another text appears:Not back at Astor yet,but I’m working on it. There’s a big shiny office overlooking the Gherkin with my name all over it. Have snuck in for a recon and honestly, Elodie, what were you thinking with those chairs? Ergonomic or not, they’re utterly hideous.

I laugh. They are the worlds ugliest chairs.Oh dear brother, as if I get to choose important things like office furniture! That was Mum, who I’m sure purchased them because they’re the only chair that make you want to stand rather than sit ever again! They were frightfully expensive, and absolutely useless in practical terms. Make a nice coat rack, maybe?

Teddy replies:Make good firewood, more like. Enjoy your day and keep me in the loop with what’s going on in Snoresville.

The front door opens and Harry peers in.

‘Harry!’ I say brightly, so relieved to see him back. ‘I was worried when I didn’t see you here earlier this morning.’

‘The wind was howling through the eaves, so I had to move. Didn’t get a wink of sleep last night.’ Fatigue is written all over his features. I question how often he gets a decent night’s rest. While the days are bright and summery, the nights have been cool.

‘I’m sorry to hear that. It certainly was a windy night. You look like you were blown away.’ Harry’s long mane of hair stands up in places as if the wind took hold of him and didn’t let go. ‘If you want to stash your things in the locker go right ahead or put your feet up in one of the cubicles – you’re more than welcome.’

‘Thanks, Elodie. I’m OK. But I wouldn’t mind offloading these bags for a bit.’

Harry stores his belongings while I go to the shower facilities and deposit some goodies for him that I bought at the local supermarket this morning.When I return, I take a container from my bag and hand it to him. ‘I’m not used to cooking for one—’or at all!‘—and I made far too much so I thought you might like to try this and tell me what it’s missing? I’m new to cooking, and I’m not sure I’m any good at it.’ My first attempt at making a stir-fry went well, if you don’t count the burn on my little finger and the fact the onions are on the wrong side of charred.

‘Oh? New to cooking?’

‘Yeah, I’m an expert on frozen meals, but cooking from scratch, not so much.’ Lies, lies, lies. I’ve never had a frozen meal in my entire life, but Harry doesn’t need to know that. I feel like you haven’t lived unless you’ve tried a frozen pizza and I plan to do a lot of real-life living while I’ve got the chance.

‘Sure, I can tell you what I think but I’m no expert either.’

‘Two heads are better than one. I’ve got enough cookbooks in here to figure out what to cook next.’ Although by the looks of the stock, I’ll be cooking a lot of Crockpot dishes from the Seventies. ‘What’s your favourite food?’

‘Beef and Guinness pie,’ he says. ‘Served with a side of mushy peas.’

‘Ooh, now that sounds like something I can get behind. How hard can pastry be?’

‘Can’t be too hard.’

‘I’ll attempt it over the weekend and then you can let me know what you think. It’ll be a good motivator for me so I don’t live on cereal and frozen pizza.’ My mother would keel over if she heard me talk like this but I delighted in serving myself a big bowl of Cheerios this morning for breakfast, instead of the green power shake I usually have.

‘Sounds good to me.’

‘Microwave’s in the kitchen,’ I say. ‘Help yourself.’

‘I’ll whack the kettle on too?’

‘I could murder a cup of tea.’

‘Do you mind if I take a quick shower first?’

‘Go for it. And for future reference you never need to ask – that’s what they’re there for.’ I smile as he limps away, hoping when he finds the small toiletry pack and big fluffy towels I left in there, that he knows they’re for him.

I’m at the dinosaur-aged computer, trying to magic up money, when Harry returns, tears in his rheumy eyes. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘You put all that smelly stuff in there for me?’

I laugh, taking it he means the body products. ‘I did. Sorry if you don’t want to smell like a strawberry. It was either that or peach.’

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