The Girls by Lisa Jewell Read Free Book Online

eyebrow. ‘Really, really, really nice?’
    She saw her daughter’s face flush pink. But Grace didn’t say a word.

Five
    It was a sunny afternoon, almost warm. Pip had put on a dress, a short one from New Look with a skater skirt. Grace was wearing a loose T-shirt and high-waisted leggings. They both had ponytails. And Grace, Pip had not been able to help but notice, was wearing mascara. There was an unspoken but concentrated effort from both of them to look nonchalant as they headed across the lawn towards the group of children sitting on the benches at the top of the hill. This was all still new. Although they’d hung out at the sisters’ flat on Friday night that didn’t mean they were automatically accepted into the gang. There was still a long way to go.
    Tyler noticed them first. Pip went to put her hand up in greeting but Grace held it firmly down by her side.
    Nobody said hello as they approached the group, but Willow inched across the bench she was sitting on so that Pip could sit down, and Catkin turned and smiled. Pip glanced curiously at the other person. He was standing next to Dylan, wearing earphones attached to an iPod. He was very tall, at least six foot, if not more, and he was sort of funny-looking. He seemed too old to be one of the gang, probably about twenty-five, but also too young to be an adult. No one introduced him or explained him and he didn’t seem to be at all interested in either of them.
    They were discussing the sisters’ grandfather, the one who’d been about to arrive when they were there on Friday night.
    ‘Our granddad has to have one of his feet amputated,’ Willow whispered in her ear.
    Pip recoiled. ‘Ooh.’
    ‘Yeah. It’s all swollen up and bleeding and his little toe’s gone black and they told him in Africa they’d have to amputate it and he said no way, you’re not cutting my bloody foot off, and he came to London because he thought they’d say they didn’t need to cut his foot off, but they do.’
    ‘Yeah, and he is so pissed off,’ said Catkin.
    ‘And it means he has to stay here for, like, a whole week.’
    ‘Maybe more,’ added Fern.
    ‘And Mum’s in a really bad mood.’
    ‘We’re all in a really bad mood,’ said Catkin, with a roll of her eyes.
    The tall man with the iPod made a strange noise just then and moved jerkily from foot to foot. Pip saw Dylan put a gentle hand on his arm and say, ‘You all right, Rob?’
    The man called Rob nodded, over-emphatically, and adjusted the plugs in his ears.
    Another boy appeared then, a boy Pip had seen around, red-haired, younger than the rest of them, probably about eight or nine. He was holding a football. ‘Wanna kick a ball?’ he said to Dylan, flicking his ginger fringe out of his eyes. Dylan said, ‘Yeah, OK.’ The boy turned to Tyler. ‘You?’
    Dylan and Tyler both nodded. Then Willow was on her feet and then Catkin. Soon it was just Fern and the tall man with the iPod left at the benches with Pip and Grace. Fern was the middle of the three sisters. She was the quietest and the strangest. Her hair was shaved above her ears and she had a whole row of tiny sleepers arced along one of her ears that looked quite painful. She always had weird stuff written on her hands and picked the skin around her fingernails until her nail beds bled. Her eyes were really big, almost too big for her face, and slightly red-rimmed as though she was constantly on the verge of tears. And she carried a piece of cream silk with her all the time that she ran across her top lip, obsessively. She sat now with her knees pulled up to her chest, watching the others as they scuffed the football around, pick-pick-picking at her fingernails, rub-rub-rubbing the piece of silk. Then suddenly Dylan turned to them and called out, ‘Grace. Pip. You playing?’
    Pip felt her heart fill with blood and throb beneath her ribs. She turned to Grace. They nodded at one another and then at Dylan. Pip couldn’t play football. She didn’t