Someone You Know. Olivia Isaac-Henry

presents and it would really feel like their birthday.

      She ran out onto the lawn calling to Tess, who turned around just as Mr Vickers came out of his back door. The smoke was billowing across the garden and over the fence. He waved his arms around as if about to suffocate. Dad was too busy fussing with the coals to look up. In the end, Mr Vickers stomped back into his house and slammed the door.

      Edie grinned at Tess, who rolled her eyes, old sucking lemons. They laughed and Edie grabbed Tess’s hands and span her round. Sucking lemons, sucking lemons. She leant back and they span faster, round and round. Edie tipped her head to the sky and was momentarily blinded by the high sun. She closed her eyes and absorbed the heat, leaning further back, spinning faster and faster.

      ‘Too fast, Edie,’ Tess said.

      She sounded far away. Blood rushed round Edie’s head. She felt as if her feet could lift off the ground and she would fly.

      ‘Too fast, Edie.’

      She relaxed her grip. Tess’s hands slipped from hers and she shot towards the lawn and landed flat on her back. She opened her eyes to the empty blue sky and started laughing before pulling herself onto her elbows. Tess was splayed in the flower bed. Edie laughed harder. Dad ran over from the barbecue.

      ‘Tess, love, are you hurt?’

      Tess’s face was scrunched up ready to cry.

      ‘I’m OK,’ she said quietly and rubbed her arm.

      Dad pulled her to her feet.

      ‘Are you sure you’re alright?’

      ‘Yes, Dad.’

      He glanced down at the flattened flowers, the pretty blue ones he’d planted for Mum. They were difficult to grow in the heavy clay soil, but he had found a way. He didn’t say anything about them and brushed Tess down instead.

      Edie jumped to her feet. Tess still looked as if she were about to cry. She mustn’t cry, not on their birthday.

      ‘I’ll get you some lemonade,’ Edie said.

      She ran into the kitchen via the side door. The dim light and cold contrasted with the day outside. Edie looked through their lounge to see Auntie Becca bustling her way through the front door, two bowls of salad, a lasagne and a trifle balanced in her arms.

      ‘I thought I’d bring these, Gina.’

      A blur of black and tan tore past. Auntie Becca’s knees jerked forwards and her body fell backwards into the wall, as her Welsh terrier rushed to jump up at Edie. She flapped him away. He sniffed the bottom of the stairs, gave one bark, before running through the kitchen and out into the garden.

      Mum dashed towards Auntie Becca.

      ‘Are you alright?’

      Somehow, Auntie Becca had held onto all the dishes. Mum took them from her and put them down on the kitchen counter. Edie examined them. The trifle looked alright, but there was no point in a lasagne when they were having a barbecue and Mum’s salads looked better than the pile of limp leaves in Auntie Becca’s patterned glass bowls.

      ‘Thank you, Gina,’ Auntie Becca said.

      She straightened up and smoothed down her trousers with her palms.

      ‘These look good.’ Mum indicated towards the food. ‘Lucky they didn’t end up on the floor. That dog’s quite a handful.’

      ‘Oh, Pepe. He just gets so excited in new houses. Likes to make himself at home everywhere. I took him to my aunt Jeanie’s the other day, he jumped straight on her lap. I’m surprised she let him leave, she was so besotted,’ Auntie Becca said. ‘And happy birthday to you, Edie.’

      She pressed Edie into her squishy belly. Hugs from Mum meant having sharp hip bones poking into her ribs. Even so, hugs from Mum were better.

      Auntie Becca let her go.

      ‘And let’s find Tess,’ she said and walked towards the back door.

      ‘Bring the salads will you, Edie?’

      ‘Where’s Uncle Ray?’ she asked.

      ‘Finding a parking space.’

      Edie ran from the kitchen, through the lounge and out of the front door.

      ‘Edie, help Becca first,’ Mum called after her.

      The street’s narrow two-up two-downs left little room for cars, but Ray was parked right outside and talking to Valentina Vickers. Edie was running so fast she only just managed to skid to a stop and avoid crashing into them.

      Valentina took a step back.

      ‘Happy birthday,’ Uncle Ray said.

      He picked her up and hugged her. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Uncle Ray’s hugs were even better than Mum’s.

      ‘Happy birthday,’ Valentina said. ‘I made a cake for you and Tess.’

      A round yellow tin decorated with white flowers was perched on the roof of Uncle Ray’s car.

      ‘Wow, thanks, Valentina.’

      ‘You’re welcome.’

      She smiled at Uncle Ray and walked off into her house.

      ‘Why did Valentina want to speak to you?’ Edie asked.

      ‘Oh, nothing much,’ he said. ‘Her old man made her come out and say I have to leave him plenty of space when I park.’

      It sounded like the sort of things Mr Vickers would say. Edie looked at Uncle Ray.

      ‘Old sucking lemons,’ they said together and laughed.

      He set her back down on the pavement.

      ‘You’re getting too big for that, you know.’

      ‘Aww, Uncle Ray,’ Edie said.

      ‘Well, maybe for a little longer.’

      Edie smiled, grabbed his hand and began pulling him towards the house.

      ‘Come and see the cakes, we’ve got two now. What present did you buy me?’

      ‘Presents?’ Uncle Ray struck his forehead with his free hand. ‘I knew I’d forgotten something.’

      Edie turned and smiled. Uncle Ray would never forget.

      ‘What is it?’ she asked.

      ‘Wait and see.’

      *

      ‘Looking good, Gina.’

      Uncle Ray kissed Mum on both cheeks when he came into the house.

      ‘What’s that?’ Mum asked, looking at the tin.

      ‘Valentina made us a cake,’ Edie said.

      ‘That was nice of her,’ Mum said. ‘Take it outside with the salads, will you? Becca’s been calling you for ages.’

      Edie took the bowls and cake out to the garden. The smoke had disappeared and the barbecue glowed silver and red. The table stood in the sliver of shade by the back wall of the house. Auntie Becca sat beside it and Pepe lay underneath.

      ‘It’s better away from the heat,’ she said.

      Edie put the food down. Auntie Becca was right, it was getting hot. Dad had been fussing about the plants for weeks. Had they enough water, had he overwatered? Their garden wasn’t like the others on the street. She could see them over the low fences. They were either paved or looked like junkyards. No one else had an array of flowers and shrubs and a winding pebble path. Raquel, their neighbour on the other side, had laughed and asked what the point was, but her mum said it was a nice change to have something pretty out there.

      Edie looked back to the kitchen door. Where was Uncle Ray? She was starving; he should have started by now. And afterwards