still remember meeting Maud at choir. This amazing-looking girl with tawny, mesmerizing eyes came over, and her very first words to me were, “You couldn’t possibly buy me a pint of milk, could you?”
Of course I said yes. It’s almost impossible to refuse Maud. It’s like her superhero power. But you can resist if you try, and we’ve all learned, the hard way. If any of us said yes to all Maud’s requests, we’d basically become her full-time bondslaves. So we’ve informally agreed on a rough ratio of one to ten.
“No, Maud,” says Sarika, without missing a beat. “I couldn’t. I work, remember?”
“Of course,” Maud says with no rancor. “I just wondered if perhaps you had the afternoon off. Ava—”
“Italy,” I remind her.
“Of course.” Maud nods fervently. “Impossible. I see that.”
She’s always so charming, you want to say yes. She should basically run the country, because she could persuade anyone to do anything. But instead she runs her children’s ridiculously complicated social lives, plus an online furniture-upcycling business, which she says is going to start making a profit any month now.
“Well, never mind,” she says. “Shall I make some tea?”
“You didn’t ask me,” comes Nell’s voice, upbeat but just a little tense. “Don’t leave me out, Maud!”
As I turn to look at Nell, she’s smiling broadly enough—but in her Nell-ish way. It’s a determined smile, Nell has. A strong smile. It says, “Just for now, I’m not going to punch you, although I can’t speak for the next five minutes.”
“Don’t leave me out,” she repeats. And she’s kind of joking—but she’s not. I force myself not to glance at her cane in the corner, because she’s having a good patch at the moment and we don’t bring up the subject except when she does. We’ve learned that over these last few years.
“Nell!” Maud looks stricken. “I’m so sorry. What an oversight. Will you pick up Arthur for me?”
“No,” shoots back Nell. “Sod off. Do your own chores.”
Sarika snuffles with laughter, and I can’t help grinning.
“Of course,” replies Maud, in the same earnest way. “I totally understand. By the way, Nell, my sweet, I meant to say, there’s a revolting-looking man standing by your car, writing a note. Shall I have a word?”
At once, Sarika lifts her head and glances at me. Sensing the atmosphere, Harold gives an ominous whine.
Nell frowns. “Does he look like a miserable git?”
“Yes. Gray trousers. Mustache. That kind of thing.”
“It’s that bastard John Sweetman,” says Nell. “Moved in a month ago. He’s always on at me. He wants to have that space for unloading his shopping. He knows I’ve got a blue badge, but…” She shrugs.
“No bloody way,” says Sarika, clapping her laptop shut and getting on her feet. “These people!”
“You stay here, Nell,” I say. “We’re on it.”
“You don’t need to fight my battles for me,” says Nell gruffly.
“Not for you. With you.” I squeeze her shoulder and follow the others out into the forecourt of Nell’s block, our faces equally set and determined.
“Hello, good evening, is there a problem?” Maud is already greeting the man in her posh boarding-school voice, and I see him taking in her appearance, a little stunned.
I mean, she’s quite a sight. Six feet tall in platforms, trailing red hair, drifty skirt, two equally stunning red-haired children at her sides, and a third clambering onto her shoulders from the top of a nearby 4X4. (That’s where Bertie was.)
“Spider-Man!” he yells, before climbing back onto the car roof.
“Is there a problem?” Maud repeats. “I believe my friend is parked here entirely legally, and writing this unfounded note would count as—”
“Harassment,” chimes in Sarika deftly. She’s whipped out her phone and is taking photos of the guy. “Harassment on several counts. How many letters is it you’ve written to my client?”
The man’s eyes bulge at the word “client,” but he doesn’t retreat.
“This is a blue-badge area,” he says tetchily. “Blue badge. Disabled.”
“Yes.” Nell steps forward. “I’ve got a blue badge. As you can well see. You, on the other hand, do not have a blue badge.”
“The point is, my flat is right there,” he says testily, pointing to the window behind Nell’s car. “In the absence of any genuinely disabled persons, I should be able to park in this space. It’s common sense.”
“She’s got a blue badge!” exclaims Sarika.
“You’re disabled?” He scoffs at Nell. “Young healthy woman like you? Do you mind sharing the nature of your ailment?”
I can see him taking in her appearance, and I look at