Perthro: a secret matter Perthro: a secret matter
Elder Futhark – Runic Alphabet
Jamie Maguire. I don’t see him for years then it’s twice in a few days. The power of coincidence, you could say. The workings of chance. Although chance didn’t make me hire him. Chance didn’t make me go on a boat ride with him.
I had to pretend I’d never been on the ait, of course. Never crossed the weir. Wasn’t that strange the way I knew to look out for the rocking stone? Spooky! As though I really am psychic. I had to pretend that I’d never been to the allotment, that I’d never even seen the cute little chalet, let alone been in it. That I didn’t know Rob. I can’t mention that. It would make everything too complicated, and I don’t like complicated.
And then there’s Martha’s birthday. What made him bring that up, I wonder? Maybe he’s the one who is psychic.
Do I remember? Of course I remember. Martha’s fifteenth. I was fourteen. I’m nearly a year younger than her. It’s an awkward age for birthdays. Too young to go out properly, too old for jelly and ice cream. We all went out for a pizza, then to the multiplex and back to hers. I remember perfectly, I have an excellent memory, but even if I hadn’t, even if I had the memory of a single cell amoeba, I’d remember that night. You always remember the first time, don’t you?