A Pocketful of Stars. Aisha Bushby

Чтение книги онлайн.

      Mum always turns everything into a game. Even boring days out to the theatre.

      ‘When the play starts,’ Mum says, ‘count the number of times the cast say Rapunzel’s name. Apparently they say it seven times in the first seven minutes!’ She pauses, looking between me and my best friend Elle. We glance at each other and frown. ‘Seven!’ Mum repeats, like this should mean something to us. ‘The witching number?’ She looks disappointed. ‘Oh, never mind.’

      I can’t help but laugh. Mum’s games don’t always make sense, because her brain works in mysterious ways.

      We’re at a coffee shop next door to the theatre, having cake and hot chocolate while we wait to watch an afternoon performance of Rapunzel.

      ‘Fine, you think of a better game to play while we watch,’ she says, chucking her napkin at me, grinning.

      ‘We could just watch the play?’ I offer.

      Mum snorts, shaking her head. ‘Boring.’

      ‘OK, fine.’ I think for a moment. ‘How about we count the number of times the cast says “hair”?’ I suggest. ‘Isn’t that what the story is about?’

      It’s Mum’s turn to laugh. ‘Rapunzel isn’t about hair!’ she says. ‘I’ve never heard something so ridiculous. It’s about freedom, and independence, and exploring the world.’

      While Mum talks, I look up a line from the story on my phone and read it out, smirking. ‘“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down thy hair.” You have to admit, Mum, it does seem to be about hair . . .’

      ‘Cheeky,’ Mum says, taking a sip of her coffee. ‘Anyway, what about you, Elle, what do you think we should count?’

      Elle, who’s been watching us talk back and forth like a referee at a tennis match, chimes in. ‘We’ve been doing Shakespeare at school this year, and apparently whenever anyone performs Macbeth, it’s bad luck to say his name in the theatre before the play!’

      Mum looks genuinely interested. ‘Yes, I have heard this! But also, did you know . . .’ And soon enough Mum and Elle have launched into a conversation about different traditions in the theatre – something I could never talk about.

      Elle’s like a chameleon, she always knows what to say. She changes personalities depending on who she’s around and can talk to just about anyone, like Mum. I’m just a plain old lizard, darting into the corner of every room I enter.

      While they talk, I get distracted by the countdown on my phone. Fifteen minutes.

      That’s when tickets to the biggest video gaming convention of the year are released. Dad promised he would go with me if I could get us both tickets. I’ve been saving up my birthday money for it.

      The thing is, they can sometimes sell out in minutes, so you have to be quick.

      ‘Hurry up, Safiya!’ Mum calls. I look up and find her at the door of the coffee shop tapping her feet, impatient to leave.

      Mum and I look so similar we could almost be twins, apart from our hair and my glasses. We both have olive skin and brown eyes. Except Mum has black curls that float down her back, whereas my hair hangs by my waist in limp waves.

      ‘Mum, the play doesn’t start for another half-hour,’ I protest. Secretly I want to stay here long enough to buy the tickets before we go inside. But if I tell Mum that she won’t understand.

      ‘I want to find our seats early, get comfortable!’

      ‘And that takes half an hour?’

      Mum sighs, opens her mouth to retort, and then storms out of the coffee shop.

      I can’t help but roll my eyes. Mum can be so hot and cold sometimes, like a sunny winter’s day. Things can be going really well, then suddenly everything changes.

      The truth is, even though Mum and I look alike, we’re not very similar in other ways. Often it’s like we’re on different pages of the same book, always just missing each other as the page turns.

      ‘Come on, Saff,’ Elle says, reaching for my hand. She’s used to mine and Mum’s bickering now.

      When we get into the theatre foyer it’s packed, and I walk with Elle until we find Mum outside the hall, tickets in hand. She hasn’t seen us yet.

      Elle says she’s going to pop to the toilets quickly so I stop, for a moment, and watch Mum standing there alone. Her eyes are far away, like they’re in a different world entirely. Mum’s been so intense about this show, more than I’ve ever seen her before. You’d think we were going to the West End, not the local theatre in our tiny town.

      A member of staff approaches her and Mum’s eyes focus again. ‘No thank you,’ she says when the woman asks if she needs any help. ‘I’m just waiting for my daughter and her friend.’ Then she comments on how lovely the woman’s earrings are and her face lights up as she tells Mum that she made them herself. Soon enough they’re in a full-blown conversation about jewellery-making, even though Mum knows nothing about it.

      Mum’s good at talking to people, being a lawyer. She knows exactly what to say at all times. I’m different. I only know how to express myself in video games. Instead of words, I use spells and incantations.

      Once the woman leaves, Mum’s face falls into a frown. She checks her watch and glances anxiously across the foyer, just as Elle taps me on the shoulder. Then Mum sees us. Except she sees Elle before me, because she stands out way more than I do, with her bright red mane like a beacon of light.

      ‘There you are!’ Mum says, relieved, but I can hear the annoyance in her voice too.

      I check the time. Five minutes until the convention tickets are released.

      ‘I’m just going to the toilet!’ I say. ‘Be back in a second.’

      Mum lets out a noise that sounds like a monster is living inside her. She hands СКАЧАТЬ