All the Little Things Sarah Lawton (red white royal blue TXT) 📖

appearing. ‘We can’t make it,’ she said, eyes again straying to those of her friends. ‘Sorry.’

‘I haven’t even told you what day it is,’ said Carol, feeling an embarrassing flush running up her chest, anger heating her.

‘Sorry,’ said Alicia, who looked anything but. ‘We’re busy. Actually, I think we all are, aren’t we, ladies?’ The others at least had the grace not to say anything; they just looked away, leaving Carol rooted to the spot with shame.

‘Have you got Lexie’s there?’ came a voice from behind her.

Carol turned, feeling shaky and sick, to see Lucy, who was smiling in the manner of someone who was gritting their teeth. She stepped in, put her arm around Carol’s shoulders and walked her away across the playground.

‘Ignore those nasty bitches,’ she whispered. ‘They think their shit doesn’t stink.’

Carol found herself laughing because mild-mannered Lucy was not usually a swearer. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Do you think things are that bad with Vivian? She hasn’t said.’

‘Lexie said none of the other children are speaking to her after she locked Jaxon in the cupboard. She said she doesn’t seem that bothered, though, and that boy is a complete toerag.’

‘She never said. I asked her if everything was okay and she said it was fine.’

‘Maybe she thinks it is fine. Does she know she’s having a party?’

‘Not really – I was thinking we could just do something at our house, cake and games… I can understand the kids being a bit mean, but why is Alicia being such a hard case?’

‘Jaxon’s mum is her bestie, isn’t she? They went to the girls’ school together. Makes them think they’re Walthamstow Village royalty.’

‘Village royalty!’

‘I know. Pretentious cowbags. Look, why don’t we do something with just the girls for Vivian’s birthday? I’m sure she’d prefer that, anyway. We could do an old-school birthday, with a cinema trip and McDonald’s.’

‘Thank you, Lucy. That sounds perfect. I really appreciate it.’ Carol could feel a lump in her throat and her eyes felt tight. Poor Vivian! No one wanting to come to your birthday party was every kid’s nightmare. What was she going to tell Rachel? It might be better if she thought this was her idea, not that she had even mentioned doing anything for a party.

‘Chin up, it’ll blow over. It was a stupid prank that she didn’t know how to stop. No one died!’ laughed Lucy, shaking her thick blonde hair over her shoulder. ‘Look, here’re our girls.’

Carol turned to see Lexie and Vivian walking out of the class, hand in hand, and she thanked her stars that at least Vivian had this one loyal friend.

‘Do you want to come back to mine for a sneaky wine?’ said Lucy, nudging her. ‘I can give the kids dinner.’

‘Yes, please,’ said Carol, thanking her stars again that maybe she had a loyal friend, too. She’d been lonely since Rachel had got her promotion, and since she had taken on so much childcare her old friends had drifted away, full of plans for cruises and jaunts that Carol couldn’t go on. None of them were even grandparents yet, let alone full-time ones. It wasn’t exactly what she had planned for her retirement, she thought, watching the two little girls skipping up the road.

Vivian

I don’t know why I bothered coming into school today. Hardly anyone is even here – they are all skiving because of Tristan. The people who are here are miserable and everything feels so heavy. We don’t have any air conditioning so wherever you go it’s like walking into an air bath, but no one is getting clean: half the boys stink, and I’ve already been in the bathroom twice to check that I don’t, too.

We are supposed to be having our mock exams soon, so I walk around the school looking for somewhere to revise where other annoying people aren’t already slobbing about. All the other years are in their lessons and the year elevens have finished their exams and don’t even have to be here, so lucky. I quite like this, though, wandering around aimlessly. Without really realising what I’m doing I end up in the art block. There’s no one here. I’m alone except for the lingering smell of paint and glue, sharp in my nose. Feeling my pulse pattering with the small illicit thrill of sneaking where I shouldn’t, I look through all the work that’s been put out for display. Everything is pretty standard clunky rubbish, apart from one drawing but I don’t think it’s finished, so I don’t know why it’s here. It’s a sketch of a girl, but she doesn’t have any eyes. The rest of her is perfect, but she hasn’t even had eyes drawn that have been rubbed out – there’s just an untouched, creamy space under each arched eyebrow and above high cheekbones. She seems familiar somehow. I can’t stop myself taking it, rolling it up and hiding it in my bag. I haven’t stolen anything for a long time. It’s the sort of thing that gets you noticed for the wrong reasons, however much fun it might be, but I want it.

I wish Molly was here. The buzz of stealing the drawing fades quickly. I’m so bored and I’m no good at talking to people unless they talk to me first, which they don’t if Molly isn’t with me. If it wasn’t for Molly, I don’t know if anyone would ever speak to me. I wonder if they’d speak to me if Alex was my boyfriend. I bet they would. I think about going home, but if I did I’d only have to see Mum and she’s probably still revelling in having something to be all sad and moody about. Why did Tristan have to go and die? What an idiot. Any normal person would have just broken their legs or something.

The rest of the day drags and drags and I spend most of it sitting in the library, watching people. Chloe is there for a while, counting