A few days later, Mr Gaydon has marked our homework. As I guessed, he makes us read our work out loud. I go raspberry red, partly because what I’ve written isn’t true, partly because I know the writing is terrible, but mainly because Mr Gaydon makes me stand by the whiteboard in front of the whole class, including Donna Taylor, who yawns the whole way through my reading.
After that he puts us into pairs and makes us edit each other’s work, which we all knew was coming. I want to work with Pilar but Mr Gaydon chooses the pairings and I’m with Linda Johns who’s written about how lonely she felt when her hamster died last summer. Pilar gets Donna Taylor, and I can’t stop looking over at them. They laugh a lot and at one point I catch them taking a picture of Mr Gaydon’s bum with Donna’s phone.
I’m using a green pen to correct Linda’s grammar when Mrs Tilly, the headmaster’s secretary, floats into the classroom. She whispers something into Mr Gaydon’s ear. He frowns. ‘Could Apple please go to reception for a message from the nurse,’ he says. I’m sitting at the back. Everyone turns in their chairs to peer at me.
‘That’s you, Apple,’ Linda Johns says.
‘Yeah,’ I say. I’m not sure how to act. I’ve never been called out of class before. Mr Gaydon doesn’t know my name, but he quickly figures out who I am and comes towards me smiling. Is it a pitying smile?
‘What’s the homework, sir?’ I ask.
Mr Gaydon waves away the idea of it and my stomach drops. It must be something bad for a teacher not to care about homework. Is Dad’s baby OK? Has something terrible happened to Nana?
‘What’s the homework?’ I ask again.
Mr Gaydon goes to his desk and comes back holding a piece of paper.
‘Read this poem and write one hundred words about something you’re afraid of. Again, in either poetry or prose.’
‘Yes, sir,’ I reply.
When I get to the door, I glance at Pilar who gives me an exaggerated thumbs up. But it only makes me feel worse.
The school nurse is waiting by reception. ‘Apple,’ she says briskly. She leads me into an office that smells of coffee and antiseptic. She puts on her coat.
‘Is it my grandmother?’ I ask.
She puts her arm around me. ‘I’m assured it’s nothing to worry about. Someone’s coming to pick you up and take you to the hospital in a few minutes.’
I grip the straps of my school bag. ‘What happened? Who’s with her?’
‘I don’t have any details. Come on, let’s go out to the car park and see if your lift’s arrived.’
I stand next to the nurse and can’t help thinking about what would happen to me if Nana was really sick. Maybe they’d let me take care of her, or maybe they’d send me to live with my dad. Either way, it would be awful.
A car pulls up beside us and a voice calls out of the window above the din of dance music, ‘Cab for Apple Apostolopoulou?’ The person pronounces my surname perfectly.
‘Thank you,’ the nurse says. She turns to me. ‘No one’s been able to get in touch with your dad. Do you have a mobile? Can you call him?’
‘Yes, miss.’
‘Right, and if there’s any problem about where you’re going to sleep tonight or anything of that sort, give the school a call. Someone will be here until about six o’clock. OK?’
‘Yes, miss.’ I climb into the black Audi. The car pulls away and the nurse scuttles back into reception.
I don’t expect to have to talk to the driver, but as she rounds the corner she turns down the music and looks at me through the rear-view mirror. She can see me fully. I can only see her eyes – rusty brown and heavily made-up. ‘Everything OK, honey?’ she asks.
‘Fine, thank you,’ I say sourly because Nana has always warned me not to talk to strangers – although if the driver is a kidnapper, there isn’t a lot I can do about it now I’m strapped into the back seat of her car.
‘Your grandmother is fine,’ the woman says. Her eyes crinkle into a smile. The car turns into a cul-de-sac and slows to a stop. I stiffen. Is she planning to abduct me in broad daylight? And how does she know about Nana?
‘I’m meant to be going to the h-hospital,’ I stutter. I grasp the door handle and wonder whether to jump out and make a run for it.
The woman turns fully so her whole face is revealed. She smiles again. Her teeth are perfectly straight and white. ‘It’s me, Apple,’ she says gently.
My mouth goes dry. It can’t be. But it is. ‘Mum?’ I only recognise her because I’ve studied the photos she’s emailed to Nana.
‘Phew. I was worried for a second you didn’t recognise me. You look so different.’
I try to think of something to say. Something that will mark this as an important moment in our lives. Before I can think of anything, Mum gets out of the car, opens the back door, and smiles again, with her lovely American teeth.
‘How long are you staying?’ is all I can say.
‘I’m back for good, sweetheart.’ For good? Meaning for ever? A few moments earlier I was terrified of my life changing, and it was, but in the best possible way. ‘I know it’s probably a bit of a shock seeing me, but can I have a hug?’ Mum says. I jump out of the car and throw my arms around her. I breathe in her heavy perfume. I can hardly believe she’s real.
‘Mum,’ I say.
‘So what should we do with our afternoon?’ she asks.
I shrug. And then I remember Nana. ‘Shouldn’t we go to the hospital?’
She laughs into the sky. ‘What? No! That was to get you out of school, you ninny. Nana’s fine. I think.’
‘Have you seen her?’
‘I’ll see her later. Right now, I’m hungry. Aren’t you?’ she asks.
It’s almost lunchtime. I only had a few spoons of porridge for breakfast. ‘Very,’ I say.
Mum tugs the band holding her ponytail together and shakes her long hair loose. It falls in smooth waves down her back. ‘Right, hop in the front, and let’s get going.’
I want to ask her if Nana knows I’m missing school, but it’s a silly question. So I don’t say anything. I climb into the passenger seat next to her and fasten my seat belt.