any like these.’
‘No, you haven’t. They’re mine.’
I nod. That explains it then. It did seem a bit weird that I’m pretty much unable to function on any level except the most basic – foraging for chocolate cake, keeping myself sheltered, selecting DVDs – but still managing to buy trainers. ‘Right. I thought it was odd that I’d bought them.’
‘Odd? When you haven’t been out of the house for more than a few minutes for weeks?’
‘Yeah. Exactly.’
‘Daze, how could you have thought they were yours, when you have no memory of buying them?’
‘Um, yeah, that is odd too. I suppose I thought I’d just forgotten buying them.’
Her eyes widen further. ‘Oh dear,’ she says, in exactly the same way as Mrs Matthews did, when I was eight and had a childish accident in the toy cupboard.
‘What does that mean?’
She stops walking, turns to face me and takes both my arms. ‘Daze, come on. You’re in a state. No, don’t shrug, we both know it’s true and we both also know that it does matter, even though you’re trying to convince yourself that it doesn’t. I’m worried about you. Seriously, I am.’
‘Ah, Abs. You don’t need to. I’m fine.’
She nods, exaggeratedly. ‘Oh, yeah, sure you are. Spending days on the sofa? Living on Jaffa Cakes? This whole “trainer” thing, for God’s sake?’
‘The orangey bit makes one of my five a day.’
Her chest jerks with a tiny laugh. ‘No, Daze, it doesn’t. You …’ She stops and shakes her head. ‘You’re … You’re killing yourself.’
‘Oh what crap.’
‘All right, maybe it’s a bit of an exaggeration. But if you carry on like this, you will get rickets. Or scurvy.’ She pauses. ‘Or you know, zits. At the very least.’
I’m smiling again, making my lips curve up. ‘Zits are the least of my worries, Abs.’
‘I know that, but you need to start somewhere. Your appearance seems like a good place. I’ve been talking to Suzanne on Facebook, and when I told her what’s been going on, she was as worried as I am. And she’s come up with a really good idea. She suggested that …’
Wow, Suzanne Allen. I haven’t heard from her for a while. Suze and I used to work together, years ago when I first left school. It was some kind of terrible call centre, selling pet and home insurance. We had to make disastrous phone call after disastrous phone call, being roundly abused and insulted by virtually everyone. Hard to imagine really how we managed to forge any kind of friendship, as there was absolutely no conversation permitted during call hours. Or tea breaks. Even toilet breaks were closely monitored.
‘… so I’ve signed us up. What do you think?’
Abby looks excited. She’s grinning at me with her whole face, waiting for me to react to something she’s just said. Quickly I cast my mind back a few seconds and try to re-hear whatever it was. Oh, there’s a lovely thick band of daffodils all the way along the grass verge at the side of the road, waving gently in the breeze, their little yellow bells knocking together. Of course, it’s April already. I keep forgetting.
‘Daze?’
‘Yeah, sorry, Abs, I was just thinking about …’ She raises her eyebrows. ‘Doesn’t matter. Can you just say it again, please?’
She stares at me a moment, lips pressed together. Then she says something that completely changes my life. ‘Daze,’ she says, grinning in spite of herself, ‘I’ve signed us up to do a MoonWalk.’
Daisy Mack
is feeling a little perturbed. Is this a good sign?
Lou Stephens Depends what it’s about!
Jenny Martin Can perturbation ever be good?
Suzanne Allen Yes, that is definitely good. Perturb away – it will help.
Daisy Mack Great, thanks Suze. Now I know it’s good to be perturbed, I am less perturbed. Is this a paradox?
Georgia Ling Everything ok hun? xx
Five months ago, my mum died. It was her second outing into breast cancer, and unfortunately it didn’t go as well as the first. But isn’t that always the way with sequels – never as good as the original, are they? Look at Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason. Still a great film, don’t get me wrong. Col and Hugh are still geeky sex gods, they still fight like inept girls and Bridge gets to snog both of them again. But … We’ve seen it before, haven’t we? We know she’s hopeless, and can’t stop smoking and wishes she was thinner. And as much as we love her, in the end we’d have preferred to watch the first film again. It had a much better ending.
I’m watching Love Actually in my silky dressing gown now. Second time today. I’m supposed to be cleaning. Better get on with it, I suppose.
Daisy Mack
Gloves, actually.
Suzanne Allen OK, I’m deciphering that to mean you’re cleaning.
Daisy Mack Wow, you’re good!
Suzanne Allen Elementary. It’s spring so they’re not woollen gloves. You don’t own a motorbike. You don’t like gardening. You don’t work with radioactive material or infectious diseases. Oh, and puppets scare you. Ergo, cleaning. Well done! X
Daisy Mack Mind = blown.
There, that’s that done. Abby’s coming round in about half an hour so I may have to finish the film off later. She wants to talk about the MoonWalk. When she told me she’d signed me up for that, I have to say I panicked.
‘Shit, Abby, you haven’t!’ I yelled. ‘I can’t do it! I failed science, remember? And I hate heights, and fast things. Remember Alton Towers? I nearly passed out on that Nemesis thing. And that’s only, like, a hundred feet off the ground. I can’t go ten million miles up, I’ll die! And look at me – I’m so unfit, you said so yourself. I’ll never get through the training programme …’
I stopped there because she was already laughing. I mean really, really laughing. She actually bent over and put her hands on her knees. Then she stood up, took a deep breath, looked at my face and started laughing all over again.
Turns out she didn’t actually mean a walk on the moon. Apparently they don’t offer that to members of the public. Well, how was I supposed to know?
‘It’s a night-time walk, Daze,’ she said, wiping her eyes.
‘Huh?’
‘It’s
