but I want to see how it all works out.
This is pretty lame, though, having to stand here while they whisper things like “Really get the message across” and “Make it count.”
When I’m a parent I’m so going to work out the punishment first.
“OK.” Dad eventually emerges from the huddle. “Ten days. No computer, no phone, nothing.”
“Ten days?” Frank gives Dad one of his death-ray, please-die-now stares. “That is so out of proportion.”
“It is not.” Mum holds out her hand. “Phone, please.”
“But what about my teammates? I can’t just let them down. All that bullshit you give me about team spirit and ‘all pull together’? And now I just let the side down?”
“What teammates?” Mum looks confused. “Is this the cross-country team?”
“My LOC teammates!” says Frank. “We’re practicing for the tournament, like I’ve told you a billion times.”
“A computer game tournament?” says Mum, in supreme disdain.
“The international LOC tournament! The prize pot is six million dollars! That’s why Linus comes round the whole time! What do I say to him?”
“Tell him you’re busy,” says Mum crisply. “In fact, I’d rather Linus didn’t come round anymore. I think you should find some friends with wider interests. And he upset Audrey.”
“Linus is my friend!” Frank looks like he wants to explode. “You can’t ban my frigging friends!”
OK, “frigging” was a mistake. I can see Mum drawing herself up like a cobra ready to strike.
“Please don’t swear, Frank,” she says icily. “And yes I can. This is my house. I control who comes in and out of it. You know Audrey had an attack when he was here?”
“She won’t have any more attacks,” says Frank at once. “Audrey’s getting used to Linus, aren’t you, Audrey?”
“He’s OK,” I say weakly.
“We’ll discuss it,” says Mum, giving Frank another icy stare. “For now, can I trust you to carry on with your homework tonight, and not produce another power cable, or do I have to cancel my birthday dinner, the one Dad and I have been looking forward to all month and which has already been half-ruined?” She looks at her legs. “My tights are totally ruined.”
When she puts it like that, you do feel guilty. I mean, I feel bad, and I didn’t even do anything, so I expect Frank feels worse. Although you never know, with Frank.
“Sorry,” he mutters at last, and we watch silently as Mum and Dad head back round the house to the drive. We hear the car doors bang and they’re off again.
“Ten days,” says Frank at last, closing his eyes.
“It could have been two months,” I say, trying to make him feel better, and immediately realizing this is a really lame and annoying thing to say. “I mean…sorry. That sucks.”
“Yeah.”
We go inside and I head towards the kitchen. I’m putting the kettle on for hot chocolate when I hear Frank at the door: “Listen, Audrey, you have to get used to Linus.”
“Oh.” I feel a weird little flip inside. It’s that name. Linus. It does that to me.
“He needs to come round here. He needs a space to practice.”
“But Mum won’t let you play.”
“Only for ten days.” He waves his hand impatiently. “Then we need to get some serious hours in. It’s the qualifiers coming up.”
“Right.” I spoon hot chocolate powder into my mug.
“So you can’t freak out when you see him. I mean, not ‘freak out,’ ” he amends at my expression. “Have an attack. Whatever. I know it’s really serious. I know it’s an illness, blah blah, I know all that.”
Frank was dragged along to a family therapy group thing a couple of times. Actually, he was really sweet at it. He said some nice things to me. And about me, and what happened, and—
Anyway.
“The point is, Linus needs to come here, without Mum getting on my case,” Frank is saying. “So you have to be able to look at him and not run away or whatever. OK?”
There’s a pause. I pour boiling water into my mug and watch the powder swirling round, turning from a dusty nothing into sublime hot chocolate in seconds. All it takes is one extra element to transform it. I think about that every time I make hot chocolate.
Which is not a good thing, by the way. I think too much. Waaaay too much. Everyone’s agreed on that.
“Try, at any rate,” Frank says. “Please?”
“OK.” I shrug, and take a sip of hot chocolate.
MY SERENE AND LOVING FAMILY—FILM TRANSCRIPT
INTERIOR. 5 ROSEWOOD CLOSE. DAY.
Mum, Dad and Frank are sitting round the breakfast table. Mum is