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His frankness provokes a stunned laugh. He’s right – I do look a lot better with my natural blonde hair. The dark brunette washes me out, but I can’t tell him that. ‘I’ll take that under consideration,’ I say.
With a shrug, he says, ‘It’s your life.’ He turns to Maisie. ‘Why’re you back to buying the cheap biscuits again? They’re full of sugar and my mum saysa minute on the lips a lifetime on the hips, and I want to be straight up and down when I’m older, not a barrel like mydeadbeat dadwho always ate the cheap biscuits before heran off with his floozy.’
I’m stunned silent as laughter threatens to burst out. I’m guessing little Alfie is copying verbatim what he’s heard his mum say when she hasn’t realised he’s in earshot. I bet she has her hands full trying to explain him away when he throws her under the bus like that in his own sweet style.
Maisie grins, she actually grins, and it lights up her pretty face. ‘Sorry, Alfie. I haven’t had a lot of spare time, is all. Things have been a bit … all over the place. I promise I’ll bring in better biscuits next week, OK?’
‘Next week!’ he says, incensed.
I bite back laughter. He’s a lovely, animated little boy, full of pluck.
‘You’re very forthright for a boy of …?’ I ask.
‘Eleven and I’m autistic,’ he says with a grin.
‘Aha, another superpower,’ I say. ‘Why aren’t you in school today?’
‘Mum home-schools me, because there’s been too many …’ he makes air quotes ‘…incidentsat school. You know mainstream, those kids can bebrutal.My mum says theyjust don’t appreciate how special I am. And the teachers, they try but they don’t understand that the kids act one way in front of them and another way when I’m on the playground by myself. Probably because they’re old and forget what it’s like to be a kid. But that’s not the only problem! Once on an excursion my teacher, Miss Macey, told us to keep our eyes peeled for the museum, but how would peeling our eyes help us see? And isn’t that a bitdrastic?
‘I told my mum and she said it’s just an expression but Mum wasn’t there, was she? I couldn’t trust Miss Macey after that – and she’s always going on about the eye contact thing, too. “Look at me when you’re addressing me, Alfie!” Yeah, because she wants to peel my eyes! Mum didn’t like it when I told the teaching assistant that she said he hadsmall-man syndrome. She said I was to keep that private.’
He throws his hands up as if he’s bamboozled by the rules. ‘There was a lot of that at school and the kidsbullied mebut Mum says it’s only because they’re jealous but it didn’t seem like they were jealous, it just seemed like they were mean. My mum can be feisty though and she saidenough was enoughand I was not to be treated in that way anymore, so when I left I told the mean kids that Mum reckonsthey’ve got bad manners and have been raised wrong and that’s why they’re so nasty. They didn’t like that.Mum said it’s a truth bomb. I don’t even want to get into that – howcanit be a bomb?
‘Before I left for good I told Miss Macey that her eyebrows were like two caterpillars fighting it out and that I found it very distracting. And then Mum saidit helps to think before you speakandsome things are better left unsaid, but that makes no sense whatsoever. Mum always says things that make no sense and I tell her so, but she reckons I’m too literal. Can you be too literal though? And if so, why?’
I try and process it all. ‘There’s a lot to unpack there, Alfie. But it sounds like you’re enjoying being home-schooled and if that means you get to come to the library a lot then we need to figure out what kinds of books you like reading so we can order some in for you. What do you think about that?’
Alfie taps his chin as he considers it. ‘New books would be helpful. I like sharks. Or basically any apex predator. Do you know that …’ and he goes off on a tangent about every shark species he knows, which seems to be a lot. As he speaks his words gather momentum and soon my head pounds as I try to process it all and find the space to reply.
‘OK, sharks, got it. I can make a start with that information. Anything else you’d like us to do to help with your schooling?’
‘Well, one thing that would make a huge difference is if you managed to lose the boiled cabbage odour that hangs around the history section. I don’t know what it is, but it’s pungent and Ihatesearching for books there. I have a highly developed sense of smell but Mum doesn’t listen to a word I say and makes me search for them anyway and the whole time I just want to gag. Can you fix that?’
I laugh. ‘I have noticed it myself.’ The scent is hard to pinpoint but I’m presuming it’s something foul that’s soaked into the carpet at some point back in 1987.‘I’ll see about having the carpets steam cleaned. Would that help?’ My first week’s pay looks like it’s going to be spent already and I only have a slight wobble when I remember I have things like rent and bills to contend with now too. But who can resist this pint-sized polymath?
He rocks back and forth, as if considering my offer. ‘It would but tell them not to use those fake flowery-smelling cleaners. I hate that smell. It’s like they’re just trying to mask the boiled cabbage with roses and no one is fooled by that.’
I take my pad from my pocket and make a note, so I don’t let down our littlest library member. ‘OK, I’ll ask for them to use only neutral products. How’s that?’ Pint-sized Alfie has managed to steal my heart even though he makes my head spin at the speed of his words.
‘That should be OK. But make sure you keep an eye on them. Mydeadbeat dadwas a tradesman and according to my muma bit slippery, which doesn’t make sense since he has all this hair even on hisbackbut be warned, is all.’
‘I won’t let them out of my sight. If you go look on my desk there’s a biscuit tin there, but I don’t know if they’re up to your standards. You’ll have to let me know.’
He sighs. ‘Let’s hope they’re halfway decent. Maisie usually brings me the ones I like in exchange for leaving her alone. She doesn’t like hearing about sharks for some strange reason. For an assistant librarian her knowledge about apex predators is terrible.’
Before I can say anything Maisie dashes off. ‘I’ll bring them tomorrow, promise!’
I grin. So there’s a bit of life in Maisie yet. A woman approaches. She smiles sweetly but looks as if she could use a good night’s sleep. ‘Hi,’ she says searching my face as if for clues on what we’ve been discussing. ‘I’m Alfie’s Mum, Jo.’
‘Hi, Jo, lovely to meet you. Alfie’s been telling me all about his love of sharks.’
She makes a face to imply she knows it was a long conversation. ‘He’s very passionate about them.’
‘I can tell. We’re going to order some new books in for him so he can further his studies.’
‘Really? That’s brilliant. Alfie will love that.’
I wave her away, just wishing I had the funds to buy every shark book ever made for the little fella. ‘Is there anything else we can assist with for his schooling?’
