“So how prepared are we?”
Charlie was scribbling madly at the kitchen table. He didn’t look up, but I could still see the grey bags underneath his eyes. It looked as though he’d been up all night. I sat down beside him and rummaged through the huge pile of documents.
“Flippin’ heck, what are all these?”
Charlie still didn’t reply. He was writing frantically now – eyes darting across the page. I wasn’t going to let him ignore me.
“Look – it’s Vikki!” I stood up and waved at the window, “Hello Vikki!”
Charlie leapt to his feet, “WHAVIKKIWHEREEE?”
“Gotcha,” I grinned, happy-clapping.
“That’s not funny,” Charlie pouted, “I really miss Vikki.”
“Well phone her then!” I gestured towards the telephone.
He shook his head, “I don’t like telephones.”
“Email her.”
“I don’t like emails.”
“You can’t use the same excuse twice,” I complained.
“Why not?”
“It’s cheating.”
“Oh bog off Mel, you’re doing my head in…”
