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Authors: Judy Astley
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much leg.
Mimi thought about how to answer Joel. She didn’t know, really, what she wanted to do, but she also didn’t want him to think she was some no-brain, clueless loser who didn’t care.
‘Oh, you know … make a difference in the world, ideally. I mean, who wouldn’t?’ she said. Ugh, that was about as big-time as you could get, she thought. Way too much – it sounded cringingly slimy. ‘I meant, you know, like kind of build bridges or something.’
Joel’s eyes widened. ‘What,
really
? Engineering! You and me both!’ He looked at her with shiny admiration. ‘Isambard Kingdom Brunel. He’s
the
man. Now there’s someone to aspire to.
Big
hero.’
‘Um, yeah. Right.’ Mimi looked at the pavement, confused. She’d heard of Brunel, but the bridges she’d had in mind had been more of the world-peace variety and even that sounded pompous and silly. Too late. The enthusiasm on his face wasn’t something she’d want to wipe out.
‘Yeah. Um, engineering’s a possibility.’ She smiled at him. ‘You’re not one of those boys who thinks it’s not for girls, are you?’
‘No! God, no,’ Joel said. ‘We could, maybe …’ He looked hesitant, shy, suddenly.
Mimi felt her insides tighten. He was going to ask her out, oh sweet joy … She looked at him, waiting.
‘Um. Only if you’d want to, I mean. Not everyone would but if you’re interested …’
‘Oh I am.’ Aagh! Too keen! Mimi bit her thumbnail and willed herself to keep quiet.
‘Science Museum? Or when it’s warmer, go out and look at Brunel’s bridges, like Marlow or Maidenhead or something? And Paddington station.’
‘Joel … are you …?’ What
was
he talking about? Did he have a secret life as a trainspotter?
‘OK, sorry … no, you’re right.’ He looked crushed. ‘It’s just, Brunel is
such
a hero. Amazing dude. A minority interest, I’ll admit, though. So … no, probably a bad idea.’
‘No! Really, whatever you like. I’ll tag along. Truly – I’d like to.’ No way was she going to sit on the end of a platform waving a tape recorder to catch the sounds of engines, but he was very sweet and hey, what was wrong with stations? They all had coffee shops, didn’t they? Mimi picked up her bag and stood up. ‘Text me, call me,’ she said, digging out a scrap of paper and writing her mobile number down for him. ‘Any time; whenever. I’ll come and look at bridges and stuff with you.’
‘So what was all that about then?’ Tess asked as they hurried towards school. ‘Don’t think I didn’t clock you getting cosy with the boffin. Don’t tell me you were discussing the combustion point of magnesium with him.’
‘Bridges,’ Mimi told her, smiling to herself. ‘We talked about Brunel and bridges, OK?’
‘Yeah yeah. That’ll be the jet lag. Get over it, babe, before you start enjoying maths and stuff.’
Mimi kept quiet. She actually
did
enjoy maths. Physics, too, but Tess didn’t need to know that.
The Body and Soul studio smelled of smoky lavender from Advanced Yoga’s candles. The sickly scent seeped out to the corridor from under the nearest of the two glass doors. Inside, the class had reached the end-stage of lying still under blankets, meditating in the dark and the silence. Nell, waiting outside on a padded bench for her own class to start, could see the dark shapes of the bodies lined up, motionless and calm in tidy rows. Shockingly, they reminded her of scenes of makeshift mortuaries after disasters. She tried to delete this horrific image from her head and turned instead to the noticeboard on the wall outside the club’s spa, where current special offers were listed. A non-surgical facelift rather appealed, she decided, wondering if it would be more or less effective than the painful-sounding chemical peel or laser dermabrasion.
‘If you have that, you can never, not ever again, get your face in the sun.’ A long, angular woman appeared beside her, pointing at the peel
Mimi thought about how to answer Joel. She didn’t know, really, what she wanted to do, but she also didn’t want him to think she was some no-brain, clueless loser who didn’t care.
‘Oh, you know … make a difference in the world, ideally. I mean, who wouldn’t?’ she said. Ugh, that was about as big-time as you could get, she thought. Way too much – it sounded cringingly slimy. ‘I meant, you know, like kind of build bridges or something.’
Joel’s eyes widened. ‘What,
really
? Engineering! You and me both!’ He looked at her with shiny admiration. ‘Isambard Kingdom Brunel. He’s
the
man. Now there’s someone to aspire to.
Big
hero.’
‘Um, yeah. Right.’ Mimi looked at the pavement, confused. She’d heard of Brunel, but the bridges she’d had in mind had been more of the world-peace variety and even that sounded pompous and silly. Too late. The enthusiasm on his face wasn’t something she’d want to wipe out.
‘Yeah. Um, engineering’s a possibility.’ She smiled at him. ‘You’re not one of those boys who thinks it’s not for girls, are you?’
‘No! God, no,’ Joel said. ‘We could, maybe …’ He looked hesitant, shy, suddenly.
Mimi felt her insides tighten. He was going to ask her out, oh sweet joy … She looked at him, waiting.
‘Um. Only if you’d want to, I mean. Not everyone would but if you’re interested …’
‘Oh I am.’ Aagh! Too keen! Mimi bit her thumbnail and willed herself to keep quiet.
‘Science Museum? Or when it’s warmer, go out and look at Brunel’s bridges, like Marlow or Maidenhead or something? And Paddington station.’
‘Joel … are you …?’ What
was
he talking about? Did he have a secret life as a trainspotter?
‘OK, sorry … no, you’re right.’ He looked crushed. ‘It’s just, Brunel is
such
a hero. Amazing dude. A minority interest, I’ll admit, though. So … no, probably a bad idea.’
‘No! Really, whatever you like. I’ll tag along. Truly – I’d like to.’ No way was she going to sit on the end of a platform waving a tape recorder to catch the sounds of engines, but he was very sweet and hey, what was wrong with stations? They all had coffee shops, didn’t they? Mimi picked up her bag and stood up. ‘Text me, call me,’ she said, digging out a scrap of paper and writing her mobile number down for him. ‘Any time; whenever. I’ll come and look at bridges and stuff with you.’
‘So what was all that about then?’ Tess asked as they hurried towards school. ‘Don’t think I didn’t clock you getting cosy with the boffin. Don’t tell me you were discussing the combustion point of magnesium with him.’
‘Bridges,’ Mimi told her, smiling to herself. ‘We talked about Brunel and bridges, OK?’
‘Yeah yeah. That’ll be the jet lag. Get over it, babe, before you start enjoying maths and stuff.’
Mimi kept quiet. She actually
did
enjoy maths. Physics, too, but Tess didn’t need to know that.
The Body and Soul studio smelled of smoky lavender from Advanced Yoga’s candles. The sickly scent seeped out to the corridor from under the nearest of the two glass doors. Inside, the class had reached the end-stage of lying still under blankets, meditating in the dark and the silence. Nell, waiting outside on a padded bench for her own class to start, could see the dark shapes of the bodies lined up, motionless and calm in tidy rows. Shockingly, they reminded her of scenes of makeshift mortuaries after disasters. She tried to delete this horrific image from her head and turned instead to the noticeboard on the wall outside the club’s spa, where current special offers were listed. A non-surgical facelift rather appealed, she decided, wondering if it would be more or less effective than the painful-sounding chemical peel or laser dermabrasion.
‘If you have that, you can never, not ever again, get your face in the sun.’ A long, angular woman appeared beside her, pointing at the peel
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