NEXT UP! 2 38 She’s back early from her meeting. I frown as I listen to her kick off her shoes and drop her keys in the dish by the door with a clatter. I quickly grab the crochet blanket at my feet, pulling it up over my body and tucking it under my chin, getting into position just before Mum walks into the living room. Immediately she pulls a face. ‘What?’ I ask, wiping cookie crumbs from my mouth. ‘You might want to open the curtains, David,’ she says, hands on hips. ‘But then I won’t be able to see the screen properly.’ She ignores me and marches over to the window, throwing open the curtains. The late afternoon sun floods the room, making the air look dusty. I writhe on the sofa, shielding my eyes. ‘Oh for heaven’s sake, David,’ Mum says. ‘You’re not a bloody vampire.’ ‘I might be,’ I mutter. She tuts. ‘Look,’ she says, gesturing towards the window. ‘It’s beautiful out. Are you seriously telling me you’d prefer to lie on the sofa in the dark all day?’ ‘Correct.’ She narrows her eyes before perching on the sofa by my feet. ‘No wonder you’re so pasty,’ she says, tracing her finger down the side of my bare foot. I kick her away. ‘Would you rather I lie in the sun all day and get skin cancer?’ ‘No, David,’ she says, sighing. ‘What I’d rather is see you doing something with your summer holidays other than staying indoors watching rubbish all day. If you’re not watching TV, you’re holed up in your room on the computer.’ The phone rings. Saved by the bell. As Mum stands up the blanket snags on her ring. I reach to grab it but it’s too late, she’s already looking down at me, a quizzical expression on her face. to frown – hrukka ennið a clatter – glamur a crochet blanket – heklað teppi to tuck – troða chin – haka to pull a face – gretta sig to writhe – kippast til to tut – hnusa to perch – koma sér fyrir pasty – fölur rubbish – hér: rusl sjónvarpsefni holed up – lokaður inni to snag – festast
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