Page 16 - SAMPLE Talking the the Moon

still, but he’s wearing a big woolly red jumper and his glasses are lopsided. It doesn’t work.
“Welcome,” says Mimi. “Come in and have some breakfast.”
I can tell Mason doesn’t want to come in, but before he knows it he’s sitting at the kitchen table and Mimi’s picking four hedge leaves out of his hair. She lays them on the table in a line. Mason picks them up and puts them in his pocket.
“Thanks,” he grunts.
I give Mimi a look (meaning don’t encourage him to
stay) but she ignores me.
“Nice to meet you,” she says. “I’m Mimi. Scrambled
eggs?”
Mason shakes his head.
Mimi’s hair is slowly falling out of its scarf and her
glasses are sliding down her nose. It’s not a relaxing look. “Juice?” she says.
Mason shrugs. Mimi pours him some juice.
“So,” she says, “you must be...?”
“Mason,” says Mason.
And that’s the end of the conversation. Mimi eats
toast and jam very slowly, I push my egg and jam round my plate, and Mason taps the table with his fingers and takes lots of little sips of juice, like maybe twenty sips in
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