Rumours Read Online Free PDF Page A

Magda at her bungalow near Potters Bar, though he resurfaced each Christmas and steadfastly made no mention of her. In terms of quality time, it was pretty much on a par with how much his offspring had spent with him when he’d been married to their mother. Whenever they referred to him, it was accompanied by a roll of the eyes and a quick tut – as if mention of him caused a minor tic. But it was indeed minor, Stuart having never played a major part in their lives.
    The following day, Will could hardly wait for his grandma to get in the car and do her seat belt before he told her about Ruby putting the Bionicle piece up her nose yesterday, and sucking the bogeys off it before giving it an almighty chewing and denting it with her small teeth. He had to keep making the incident sound like an extraordinary happening where he’d somehow been both victim and hero, to deflect attention from the fact that everyone had said to him, Don’t Let Ruby Put Anything in Her Mouth. The grown-ups had given him responsibility. And though he’d failed, his expressive storytelling made it sound as though he’d saved Ruby
and
the Bionicle and he was fine about the fact that his toy was riddled with teeth marks.
    His grandma was riveted. ‘Can you imagine if Ruby had swallowed it?’ She craned her neck to look aghast at Will in the back seat. ‘There’d be some poor Bionicle chap missing a vital part of his anatomy.
Then
how would the battles be won?’
    â€˜Exactly,’ marvelled Will.
    â€˜Exactly,’ Sandie concurred.
    â€˜Mum!’ Stella protested.
    â€˜Grandma, how old was Mummy before she could call you Mum?’
    â€˜Twenty-eight and three-quarters,’ Sandie said, not missing a beat.
    â€˜I have to be forty-five.’
    â€˜That’s not very fair,’ said Sandie.
    â€˜Twenty-seven, then,’ said Stella, glancing in the rear-view mirror at her son and giving him a wink.
    â€˜Cool,’ said Will, looking out the car window.
    Will assumed that, because of the family thing, he was genetically programmed to grow up and turn out like the Twins, teenagers Pauly and Tom, in much the same way as the Stickies would grow up to be just like him. And they’d all, one day in about a million years, turn into grown-ups like Alistair and Robbie. Apart, of course, from Sticky Ruby who’d turn out like her mum and Will’s mum and the Twins’ mum.
    Much as Will felt his mother was the best, he secretly acknowledged that Aunty Juliet was the better cook, possibly the best cook in the world and, as he took his place between the Twins at the laden table he happily blocked out the boring chatter of the grown-ups, and the revolting mess of the Stickies sitting opposite him, to focus wholeheartedly on the spectacular offerings on his plate.
    Stella sat by Juliet, whom she adored. Her brothers flanked their mother and Sara, Robbie’s wife, sat between her toddlers and managed in her inimitably competent way to feed herself and her children, yet be utterly present in the conversation. Stella looked around the table. It was like sitting in the best seats at the theatre waiting for the play to begin. With a surge of joy she thought this was to be her afternoon. It would linger into early evening and she was happy. She’d leave, hours later, replete in body and soul. Thank God for family. Thank God for hers. The decibel level was high yet not discordant and topics bounded between them all like the ball in a bagatelle. The tangents they veered off to, all part of the colourful ricochet of joyful banter.
    â€˜It just goes back to what Gordon Brown said – but didn’t do,’ said Alistair.
    â€˜That goes without saying,’ said Sandie, about something else entirely.
    Sara chewed thoughtfully, picking up on an earlier thread. ‘I love the idea of supporting local businesses, shopping at the corner shop, buying books from a little independent