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she’d come into the garden to do.
There was blackfly all over the runner beans.
She could feel the girl watching,
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the apple halfway to her mouth.
She could almost hear the air coming out of her,
she was that deflated.
It became a waiting game, after that.
Both of them waiting for the other to speak.
Well. The girl had no idea.
Ginny knew about that game.
She’d had a lot of practice.
Not that she wasn’t furious.
But she didn’t want to give this girl the satisfaction of seeing how she felt.
She could see
that was what the girl wanted.
It was all very reminiscent.
She picked off the new crop of runner beans.
She wiped down the leaves and stems with a soapy cloth.
The blackfly were all over.
The girl gave in, eventually, and spoke first.
She asked if Ginny would report her.
It seemed an odd thing to ask.
She told the girl she imagined the police had better things to concern themselves with than the theft of a single apple. And she didn’t know the girl’s parents, so she could hardly talk to them either.
The girl shrugged, and looked at Ginny.
Daring her to do something, really.
Ginny was tired of the attitude.
If she’d been twenty years younger she might have
taken steps towards her,
and raised a hand.
