LITMIR.BIZ

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of looking at him. Incapable of speaking. And that if she stayed in that car for one second longer, she was going to start crying.

      Across town, it was lunch break at Millbank Comprehensive and Katie was getting the third degree.

      ‘Does she turn people into frogs?’

      ‘Shut up.’

      ‘I heard she dances naked when it’s full moon.’

      ‘Seriously. Shut up.’

      Katie stretched her long pale legs, inched her navy school skirt a little further up her thighs. She was sitting with her back against the gym and Imogen was lying flat out, face down, her head cradled in her hands.

      ‘Are they turning brown yet?’ Imogen asked.

      Katie squinted at the backs of her friend’s calves; they were goose-pimpled in the cold air. ‘Not really.’ She didn’t know why they were attempting to tan in November. Imogen had said something about classy people getting brown in the winter.

      ‘It’s so hard to get the backs to turn, I wonder why.’ Imogen lifted her head and squinted at Katie. ‘You should start on them now.’

      ‘The fronts of mine haven’t changed yet. I don’t think I’ve got the kind of skin that goes brown.’ Katie looked at the smooth golden skin on Imogen’s wrists, then closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall.

      ‘We need baby oil. That’s what Leila uses,’ Imogen said. ‘Speeds up the tanning process.’ Leila was Imogen’s older sister. At sixteen, she was the fount of all Katie and Imogen’s knowledge regarding beauty tips, boys and sex.

      ‘Like basting a chicken,’ Katie offered.

      ‘Yuck. You’re gross.’ Imogen sat up cross-legged and began re-tying the sparkly black scarf around her neck. ‘Don’t you have Italian blood? You should tan in, like, two seconds.’

      ‘I take after my dad.’ Katie’s father had strawberry-blond hair, wide shoulders and a goofy smile. She hoped her colouring was their only similarity. ‘We shouldn’t be doing this, anyway.’ Katie said. ‘Sunbathing gives you cancer.’

      ‘Not in November. And we’re too young to get cancer, anyway,’ Imogen said, her voice full of certainty.

      This was one of the things Katie liked best about Imogen. She was so pleasingly definite.

      ‘If they don’t turn in a week or so, I’d go for some fake tan, though. Otherwise you’ll have milk bottle legs.’

      ‘Can’t afford any.’ Katie said this automatically and felt a funny itch behind her left ear. She shook her head to dislodge the feeling. Truth was, she didn’t want to use fake tan. It had become bound up in her mind with girls-who-should-know-better and cheap clothes. Probably from her mum, who had a less pleasing kind of certainty.

      ‘You could get your aunt to magic you brown.’

      This was something Katie liked less about Imogen. Her inability to leave a subject alone. She peered at Imogen’s exposed knees. ‘It might be the goose bumps, but that mole looks funny.’

      ‘Shut up,’ Imogen said, but she sat up and tugged her skirt a little lower. ‘So. What’s she like, anyway? My mum says she was a complete mental case at school.’

      ‘Boy alert,’ Katie said. She’d been trying to distract Imogen but, on second glance, she realised that the pack of boys crossing the yard contained the delicious form of Luke Taylor. Katie felt the familiar dipping sensation in her stomach.

      Imogen followed her gaze. ‘Yum,’ she said. ‘I usually prefer older men, but even I have to admit that Luke is a Class-A hottie.’

      ‘I do have excellent taste,’ Katie said. ‘Now I just need him to realise I exist.’

      ‘You will,’ Imogen said. ‘And then he’ll fall for your extreme cuteness. And you and Luke can double-date with me and Gavin. It’ll be perfect.’

      Katie smiled. It was a nice fantasy.

      Chapter 4

      Having spent the previous two days cleaning and moving bin bags around End House, Gwen had a touch of cabin fever. She also had to face the horrifying truth: she couldn’t ignore her business any longer. Gwen didn’t want to parcel up the customer’s order. She didn’t want to look at the last shadow box that she’d made, and she certainly didn’t want to remember how hopeful she’d been when she made it, before the final demands piled up and her eviction notice arrived like the Grim Reaper, but she didn’t have a choice. Curious Notions might’ve been as-good-as bankrupt, but she wasn’t going to let a customer down. The shadow box was a rare commission and the woman had wanted ‘something about love’ for a wedding anniversary. Gwen had created a miniature apothecary shop with rows of tiny bottles and jars. You needed a magnifying glass to read the labels, but there was ‘tincture of true love’ and ‘heart’s desire’ in amongst the foot powder and cough mixture.

      Gwen was filing off the back edge of the box, making sure it was perfectly smooth, when a familiar figure appeared at the back door.

      ‘I’m going out,’ Gwen said, standing up. ‘Sorry.’

      Lily stepped into the kitchen anyway, her smile as bright as ever. She ran one hand protectively over the Formica worktop as she looked around the room, seeming to take every detail in. ‘Everything okay?’

      ‘Fine.’ Gwen put down her file.

      ‘What’s that?’ Lily peered at the shadow box.

      Gwen wanted to say ‘my art’, but didn’t want to sound like a pretentious twat. ‘It’s kind of an assemblage thing,’ she said. ‘It’s what I do. For money.’ Kind of.

      ‘What’s it for?’ Lily leaned over, her nose almost touching the Perspex front of the box.

      ‘Nothing. It’s just a decoration.’

      ‘Oh.’ Lily straightened up. ‘How much do you charge?’

      Gwen blinked. ‘Sixty-five pounds. This one’s more because it was commissioned.’

      ‘Nice little earner.’ Lily gave her an approving nod.

      ‘Not really,’ Gwen said. The apothecary shop had taken over sixteen hours to make and the miniature till was an antique that had cost ten pounds. Gwen had a sudden flash of fury at herself. No wonder she was broke. What was wrong with her? The new-yoga-obsessed Ruby would probably say that her chakras were unaligned or something.

      She put tissue paper over the box, added a ‘thank you for your purchase’ card and began folding layers of bubble wrap.

      Still Lily lingered.

      ‘I’m going into town to post this,’ Gwen tried.

      ‘That’s fine,’ Lily said. ‘I’ll come with you. I can show you around.’

      Gwen knew that she should explain that she used to live in the town and that she probably knew it as well as Lily did, but the words remained stuck in her throat.

      She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and locked up the house.

      ‘Iris never locked her back door,’ Lily observed.

      ‘That was very silly of her,’ Gwen said.

      Lily laughed her unnatural tinkle. ‘I keep forgetting you’re a city type. You don’t know what it’s like in Pendleford; we all look out for one another here.’

      Fed up, Gwen snapped, ‘I suppose there’s no crime at all, then? If I buy the paper, it’ll be completely blank.’

      Lily looked away, but she didn’t say anything. They walked past the frost-touched hedgerows in silence, reaching the end of the track and joined what probably counted

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