And so the only piece left in the jigsaw is Astrid. But it's a big piece. Heather just showed me the footage of Mum laying into Astrid in the sitting room and I stared in total disbelief. First, I couldn't believe Mum could blame Astrid for anything, Second, I couldn't believe she'd only just got my text. Third, I couldn't believe she'd come over to see me. So she hadn't given up on me. She didn't hate me. I hadn't spoiled everything. I'd been wrong on pretty much everything. As I watched it for the second time I felt pretty sheepish, and I could tell Mum felt even worse. "I don't sound like that," she kept saying in horror. "I didn't say that. Did I?" "You totally sound like that," said Heather. "You sound worse, actually. The camera was flattering." She was rubbing it in. She doesn't sound quite as shrill as that in real life. "So, I need to apologise to Ally." She sighs. "So do I," I say quickly.
"So do I," says Heather glumly. "What?" Mum and I swivel to look at her. "We had a fight. About LOC. She was talking about the tournament and I got...well, jealous, I suppose." Heather looks like an overgrown schoolgirl. She's got ink on her hands and is staring miserably at her knees. She doesn't know about the laptop yet, and I would love to whisper it in her ear to cheer her up, but I've had enough of going behind my parents' backs. For now. "So." Mum is back into her brisk mode again. "We all need to apologise to Ally." "Mum, that's all very well," I say in a flat tone. "But it's too late. Ally's parents are emigrating. She's at the airport right now. We've missed our chance." "What?" Mum looks up as though scalded. "We could make the airport." Dad looks alertly at his watch. "Which airport? Vanessa, we'll take your car." "Which flight?" demands Mum. "Henry, which flight?" What are my parents like? They've watched too many Richard Curtis films, that's their trouble. They've gone soft in the head. "She's not at the bloody airport!" I expostulate. "I said that as a joke. Don't you think you'd know if Ally was emigrating?" "Oh." Mum subsides, looking highly embarrassed. "OK. I just got carried away for a moment. What shall we do, then?" "Invite her to Starbucks," I say after a moment's thought. "It needs to be at Starbucks. Heather, you text her."
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It's actually pretty funny. When Astrid arrives at Starbucks, we're all sitting there at one big table, the whole family, waiting for her. She looks totally unnerved, and for a moment I think she's going to run away, but you know, Astrid isn't a runner-awayer.
After about five seconds she comes forward resolutely and looks at us all in turn, especially Mum. And last of all me. It takes her about thirty seconds to realize. "Your glasses!" "I know." I can't help beaming. "When—?" "Dunno. They just fell off. And...here I am." "So, Ally," says Mum. "We would all like to apologise to you. Heather?" "Sorry I got ratty, mate," says Heather, turning red. "Oh." Astrid seems embarrassed. "Er...that's OK." They bang fists together then Heather turns to Mum. "Mum, your turn." "OK." Mum clears her throat. "Ally, I'm very sorry I took my worries and fears out on you. I got completely the wrong end of the stick. I know how good you've been for Henry and I can only apologise." "Right. Um." Astrid looks even more embarrassed. "Listen, you don't have to do this," she says, looking around the family. "I know you were all stressed." "We want to." Mum's voice gives a sudden waver. "Ally, we're all very fond of you. And I should not have shouted at you. It was a bad time, and I really am sorry." "Sorry!" chimes in Snotlout, who has been chomping on shortbread biscuits all this time. "We have to say sorry to Ally. Sorry, Ally." He beams. "Sorry, Ally." "Sam, you're fine," says Astrid. I can see Snotlout gazing at Astrid, his dandelion clock head on one side, as though trying to work out what we're all doing here.
"Did Mummy cut your hair?" he says, as though he's cracked it. "Did you cry? Ben cried because he was happy." "Er, no, Sam, no-one cut my hair," says Astrid, looking baffled. "Ben cried because he was happy," reiterates Snotlout. "So that's me," says Mum. "Steven? Your turn?" She turns to Dad, who looks a little startled. I'm not sure he realized this was a go-round-the-table apology. "Er...hear, hear," he says. "What she said." He waves towards Mum. "Count me in on that. Understood?" "Understood," says Astrid with a little smile. "And, Ally, we'd like to give you a little present to make amends," says Mum. "A little gift. Maybe a theatre outing...or a theme park? You choose." "I can choose anything?" Astrid looks secretively from Mum to Dad. "Anything I want?" "Well, within reason! Nothing too expensive..." "This wouldn't be expensive, what I'm thinking of." "It sounds great!" says Dad at once, and Mum frowns at him. "I want to play in the LOC qualifiers with Heather," says Astrid. "That's what I want more than anything." "Oh." Mum stares at her, discomfited. "Really?" "You're in a team already," says Heather gruffly. I can tell she's super-touched from the way she won't even look at Astrid. "I want to play in your team. They've got a reserve. They don't need me." "But we haven't got a team!" says Heather, and there's a sudden depth of misery to her voice. "I haven't got a computer, we don't have a team—" "Yet," chimes in Dad, bubbling over. "Yet." He grins madly at Heather. "Yet." "What?" Heather stares blankly at him.
"You haven't got a computer yet." Dad gives one of his stage winks. "Just look out for a big brown box, is all I'm saying. But no more hacking my emails." "What?" Heather looks almost heady with hope. "Seriously?" "If you follow our rules and don't make a fuss when we tell you to stop playing," says Mum. "If there's any trouble, it's going out of the window." She gives a satisfied little grin. "You know I'll do it. You know I want to." "Anything!" Heather seems almost beyond speechless. "I'll do anything!" "So you can play in your game," says Dad, who looks almost as fired up by this as Heather. "I was reading a piece about it in the Sunday Times magazine. I mean, this LOC is a big business, isn't it?" "Yes!" says Heather, as if to say Finally! "In Korea it's an official spectator sport! And they have scholarships for it in the States. Actual scholarships." "You should read the piece, Vanessa," says Dad. "What's the prize pot, six million dollars?" He grins at Heather. "So, are you going to win that?" "We don't have a team." Heather suddenly deflates. "We'll never get a team together. It's, like, a week away." "Macey could play," suggests Astrid. "She's not bad, for a twelve-year-old." "I could play," I offer, on impulse. "You know, if you want me to." "You?" says Heather derisively. "You're crap." "Well, I can practice, can't I?" "Exactly!" says Mum. "He can practice. So, that's sorted." She glances at her watch, then at Astrid and me. "And now we'll leave you two alone, for Henry to...Well, for you to..."
She pauses. "Anyway. You don't want us hanging around embarrassing you!" OK, the thing is, no-one was embarrassed till she said the word embarrassed. As it is, Astrid and I wait in awkward silence while they all get up and Snotlout drops his biscuit and wants another one, and Dad starts looking for his BlackBerry and Mum tells him he didn't have it, and honestly, I love them to bits, but could my family be any more annoying? I wait until they've well and truly left and the glass door has closed behind them. And then I turn properly to Astrid and look at her. "Welcome to my eyes," I say softly. "What do you think?" "I like them." She smiles. "I love them." We're just looking and looking at each other. And I can feel something new between us, something even more intimate than anything we've done. Eye to eye. It's the most powerful connection in the world. "Ally, I'm sorry," I say at last, wrenching my gaze away. "I should have listened, you were right—" "Stop." She plants her hand on mine. "You've said it. I've said it. Enough." She has a point. We've sent about five zillion texts to each other since I came back. (Only Mum isn't supposed to know how many, because I was "resting.") "So...are we OK?" "Well, that depends," says Astrid, and I feel a lurch of fear in spite of myself. "On what?" Astrid looks at me thoughtfully for a moment. "On whether you can ask that blond woman three tables away directions to the circus."
I start laughing in a way I haven't for ages. "The circus?" "You've heard the circus is in town. You're desperate to see it. Especially the elephants." "OK. I'll do it." I get up and do a mock bow. "Look, no glasses! Just eyes!" "I know." She looks up, smiling. "I told you, I love them." "You love them?" I preen myself. "You." Something catches in my throat. Her gaze is fixed on mine and there's no doubting what she meant. "Me too," I manage. "You." We're sinking into each other's gazes. We're like starving people gorging on cream cakes. But she's challenged me, and I'm not going to wuss out, no way. So I wrench myself away and go to pester a strange blond woman about the circus. I don't look back once, the entire time I'm talking to her. But I can feel her eyes on me all the time. Like sunshine.
