14 April 2022
Thursday. School holidays, and a boy came up the stairs with his mum and dad and his big sister. He was fourteen. He said fourteen and a half. The grown-ups at the desk said sorry, nobody under fifteen comes into my house, not even with a parent, not even to watch.
I was cross at first. I would like a friend my own size. Then I thought it over with Pudding and I see now that I am the only child allowed in this house. It is my house. I like that rule very much.
His sister had a card to show she was old enough. The grown-ups do check. Tonight they checked a man with a beard, and everyone laughed except the man.
Only his own family came in with her, nobody else’s. They always come in their own little packs. I have never once had to meet a stranger’s friends, which is lucky, because I am shy.
The boy waved at my window on the way out. I waved back. He will be fifteen one day, and I will still be here. I am very good at waiting.
— Cathy (please come back)
