Page 34 of Second Chances at the Board Game Café

‘Pretty good. Although I had to let Sylvia win that last game. I thought she mightn’t bring it next time if she lost all three.’

*

Taylor was still in a buoyant mood the following morning as she and Max waited on the station platform. Life was certainly looking up these days: she was doing something creative; she was sleeping in a proper bed at night; and whilst Max still hated school, he loved the train journey to and from Essendale every weekday.

The train bound for Halifax pulled into the opposite platform.

‘Wow, Mum, look. That’s a Class 802 unit. You normally only get those on the Huddersfield line.’

‘Unit?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘You know, carriage.’

‘You’re so clever, darling,’ she said. How ever did he know this stuff?

Ava appeared. She gave a nervous little wave to Taylor who waved back. The boys, Taylor noticed, didn’t acknowledge each other, confirming her suspicions that Ava’s brother was one of the bullies. There was no point asking Max.

‘I’m not snitching,’ he’d said on previous occasions when she’d tried to get him to give her names.

The train was bang on time, and they arrived at the gates of Essendale Primary twenty minutes before school officially started. Mrs Green passed them as she did most mornings, carrying her pile of marking into school.

‘Morning, Max,’ she trilled. ‘Early again.’

‘It’s the train times,’ said Taylor. ‘We’ve moved to Hebbleswick.’

‘Not moving him to Hebbleswick Primary, then?’ said Mrs Green, and Taylor thought she detected a hint of hopefulness in the woman’s voice.

‘I’m not changing schools,’ said Max stubbornly.

Despite what he’d said, Taylor found herself taking a little diversion on the way home from Hebbleswick station. She stood outside Hebbleswick Primary. It looked very much like the Essendale school – a stone Victorian building with high windows, and metal gates – and she wondered for the millionth time if life would be any better there for Max. Not that she’d ever be able to persuade him to change schools. She wasn’t sure why she was even looking at the place. He’d probably be teased here too, because he was different. He didn’t like football but he liked learning times tables. He couldn’t name a single pop song, but knew obscure facts about train carriages. And he didn’t have a single friend.

He’d be sure to be picked on, whatever school he went to and she felt powerless to change that.

18

Harry opened the wardrobe doors. He pulled out his usual Wednesday shirt, the light blue one, then put it back, remembering all the brightly coloured garments at the recycling event. Instead he donned one of the new shirts he’d bought in York, which had pale pink and white stripes. He wondered if anyone in the office would comment.

After breakfast, he opened the fridge door to take out his lunchbox, before remembering that he’d forgotten to make his sandwiches. He’d spent the previous evening binge-watching episodes of The Great British Sewing Bee on the iPlayer, in the hopes of gleaning some tips that might impress Taylor. Not to worry – he would buy some lunch.

He thought about the dragon shirt as he walked to the station. He was hoping he might tackle it over the weekend. He wanted to finish it to impress Taylor at the following week’s recycling meeting. He didn’t know how he was meant to stop the edges from fraying when he cut out the dragon. Did he need to cut out extra fabric from around the creature so he could create a kind of hem? But how did you do that neatly when it was such a complex shape? He hadn’t a clue.

He was still thinking about this conundrum as his train pulled into Hebbleswick station. He looked at the opposite platform as he always did nowadays, and there she was. Taylor. Looking as beautiful as ever, with her boy beside her. The child was pointing at the wheels of the train, and talking animatedly to his mother.

Harry watched as Taylor ruffled his hair and the boy batted her away with his arm. They looked so happy together, so contented.

Then the tone of the engine changed, and the train began to pull out of the station. Harry turned his head, craning his neck to keep sight of her for as long as possible.

*

On his way home, Harry glanced into the board game café to see Kate sitting by herself, staring out of the window. It wasn’t unusual to see her there – her best friend owned the place after all – but he was surprised when she waved at him and beckoned him inside.

‘Hal,’ she crooned as he walked in.

He went over to see what she wanted. ‘Good evening, Kate.’

‘How’s the sewing going?’

She had that naughty twinkle in her eye again.