Monster. C.J. Skuse

routine. Have you seen my handbag? Oh, I must have left it upstairs.’

      ‘Do you need me to talk to the police with you, ma’am?’

      ‘No, I need Dianna. You’ve got enough to deal with.’

      ‘Is it about the man in the village who was killed, ma’am?’

      ‘Yes,’ she said and minced off upstairs without another word.

      Bloody Dianna, I thought. Bloody bloody bloody Dianna. Why was she the one to help her talk to the police about it? What about me?

      I tried to shake the image of the blonde assassin from my mind as I stepped out onto the front mosaic to greet Charlie Gossard from the shop and try to be happy. I’d had a substantial crush on Charlie for a while now. His dad ran Bathory Basics and he worked there, serving customers and ‘out the back’ though I never really knew what went on ‘out the back’. It had started with the odd flirty comment about what I was buying whenever I walked there on a Saturday morning for provisions, then it progressed to long looks across the freezer in the summer. Now, we were into conversations and every now and again he’d give me some sell-by pies or sweets if there were any due for chucking out. I hadn’t told him about Seb being missing or anything serious like that—our conversations mostly ran to school or what Xbox game he’d recently bought and what his top score was.

      He caught sight of me as he got out the driver’s door. ‘Hi, Nash.’

      ‘Hi, Charlie,’ I said.

      ‘How are you?’

      ‘Yeah, fine thanks.’

      He was big into gaming, and even though I wasn’t at all, I enjoyed listening to him talk. He could have been reciting the phone book and I’d listen to him. Charlie had short blond hair, blue eyes and always wore tight t-shirts, even in winter, which you could see his nipples through. Maggie said he was a ‘un renard chaud’, which meant a hot fox, but I just thought he was lovely. There was always a long white apron tied around his waist, usually smeared with grubby fingermarks.

      ‘Do you need any help?’

      ‘Yeah, if you don’t mind. Thanks.’

      His smile cut a diamond into the early evening light and he went to the back doors of the refrigerated van to unlock them, then reached in to get one of three humungous turkeys out for me to carry.

      ‘She’s a heavy one, mind. You got it?’

      ‘Yeah,’ I said, straining to hold it in both hands and making my way towards the kitchen door. He grasped the other two, one in each hand.

      ‘Dad said make sure your cook knows they’re premium birds. KellyBronze. Free range, the lot.’

      ‘Oh, great,’ I said, struggling a little with the weight of mine as he edged past me and opened the side door to allow me inside. Cook was delighted and, as she and Charlie settled the invoice, I hung around, even though I knew I had no business being there. I was just waiting. For anything. For some little shred of Charlie that I could think about for the rest of the day. Something to send me to sleep smiling tonight instead of crying.

      When the invoice was settled and he and Cook had talked about cooking times and types of stuffing and ‘succulence’, he walked back out with me to the annoyingly nearby van.

      ‘So,’ he said. ‘I guess you go home for the holidays tomorrow then?’

      ‘Yeah. I guess so.’

      ‘Not looking forward to it?’

      I shrugged. ‘It’ll be nice to see my parents. Yeah. Yeah, it’ll be nice. Presents and Midnight Mass and everything.’

      ‘Oh, we went one year. Pretty boring really.’

      ‘It’s tradition though, isn’t it? My mum and dad enjoy it.’

      ‘Yeah, it is. Gotta keep the old folks happy.’

      ‘Yeah.’

      We both laughed, a nervous sort of laugh that went on as long as it could because it was obvious neither of us knew what to say next. We’d run out of conversation so quickly, I hadn’t seen it coming. I had nothing in reserve to impress him with. I did a bit of subtle eye-batting and leaning in the hope of … What was I hoping for? For him to take me in his arms and ravish me right there in the school driveway? I didn’t know. I just knew I needed something from him. Something more.

      ‘What are you getting for Christmas then?’ I asked, hopelessly. Desperately.

      He laughed. ‘Probably some Boxing Day overtime and a thick ear.’ He smiled, wringing his hands like they were cold. I did the same, mirroring his movements.

      ‘Are yours freezing too?’ he asked, reaching for them and taking them in his. They were warmer than mine, but at that moment I didn’t care if he’d been lying about having cold hands just so he could hold mine. I didn’t want him to let go. ‘Yeah, they are.’ That tiny moment, with him holding my hands in his, made the day seem finally worth getting up for.

      ‘I’m all right now,’ I said, regrettably pulling them away and looking down to hide the flames in my cheeks.

      ‘Listen, you better get in and warm up before they fall off. I’ve got another twelve of these to deliver before the end of the day. Have a great Christmas, all right? And I’ll see you next term.’

      ‘Yeah,’ I said, as I watched him make his way back to the van. ‘Charlie?’ I called, when he was almost in.

      ‘Yeah?’ He looked back.

      ‘You have a great Christmas too.’ And we both smiled at each other. For now, that would have to be enough.

      Monday night after Prep and monitoring the Pups’ bedtime, I bathed and wrapped myself in my school-approved navy dressing gown and raspberry slippers with the school crest on and went down to Mrs Saul-Hudson’s office for our usual routine of cocoa and diary. She was sitting at her desk when I knocked and went in, closing the door behind me.

      ‘Oh, Natasha, is it that time already?’ she said, already in her pyjamas and dressing gown herself and looking more flustered than normal. ‘Sorry, I’ve got such a lot to do before tomorrow.’

      ‘Good evening, ma’am.’ I placed her cocoa mug down in front of her, my tap water down in front of me, and opened the diary to tomorrow’s page so she could see it. ‘It’s all done for you to check.’

      ‘Wonderful. Before we go through tomorrow’s notes, have a seat. I wanted to talk to you about something.’

      ‘Yes, ma’am?’

      She took a sip of her cocoa and I took a sip of my water. Then she settled down the mug. ‘Lovely. Just right as usual. Right, last day of term tomorrow, we’ve got lots of visitors coming. Who is supervising Pups all day?’

      I opened my notebook and clicked on my pen. ‘The usual staff, ma’am, plus I’ve allocated three prefects from Tudor, Hanover and Windsor House to the three groups as well. No lessons means lots of extra hands on deck, which is great.’

      ‘Excellent. And how about the Tenderfoots?’

      I checked my notes. ‘Two prefects, three members of staff and two TAs. That should be quite enough, ma’am. A lot of the Tenderfoots have gone home early.’

      ‘Good, and the Christmas Fayre?’

      ‘Stallholders will be arriving from ten a.m. and the Years Nine and Ten have been briefed by their form tutors about helping set up stalls and—’

      ‘What about the play?’

      ‘Years Nine and Ten will be setting out the chairs once they’ve helped with the stalls.’

      Mrs Saul-Hudson smiled and sat back in her large leather chair, like a queen testing out a new throne. ‘Where would I be without you, Natasha?’

      I