‘You OK?’ Salma asks Jem, as I turn back to the stupid movie.
‘Hey, Jim-Jems,’ I greet her. ‘I’ve never seenDie Hardbefore, so Harry insisted I watch it.’
‘Um,’ he says to Jemma from between his fingers, ‘I wouldn’t characterize it like that. I would say more, I was watching my favourite movie, and your sister insisted on joining me to ruin the whole thing.’
‘Potato, tomato,’ I say, waving my hand.
‘You’re all watching it without me?’ Jemma asks in a small voice, and I glance up at her. She’s not annoyed, is she? She can’t mind me hanging out with our housemates without her? I’m the one with no friends and no life, she can’tactuallymind me spending time with these guys? I internally sigh.
Honestly, everything I do seems to upset her, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I can do to fix things.
‘Come join us, babe,’ Salma says encouragingly, patting the space beside her.
Jemma shakes her head sullenly. ‘I’m going to go read,’ she mumbles like a big old martyr, jabbing at her bag’s zip and pulling out a book. It’s that novel from the library again –Too Good to Be True. Oh! I jump up, the sofa squeaking under me.
‘Hey, Jemma, don’t go, wait!’ She cocks her head at me expectantly, crossing her arms defensively.
‘What’s up?’ Her voice sounds forced.
I hop from foot to foot excitedly. ‘Book Boyfriendstarts tonight!’ I check my watch, ignoring the notification telling me to do more exercise. ‘In fact, it’s on in, like, twenty-five minutes.’ Jemma doesn’t say anything and I inch closer. ‘You remember, Jim-Jems? You said we could watch it together? Like a fun, group house thing.’ She still doesn’t say anything and I add desperately, ‘C’mon, Jemma! Give it a chance. It’s based on your favourite book! It’ll be fun! You never know, you might love it!’
She takes a deep breath, glancing at the book in her hands. I can see she is trying to find some enthusiasm. ‘Let me go take my coat off and grab some dinner,’ she says at last. ‘I’ll pop in and out, see if it’s worth watching.’ She turns to go, pulling at her coat sleeve as she does and almost dropping her book in the process.
‘Whoops,’ she mutters, as she grabs at the shiny plastic cover and something slips from inside it. A piece of paper. No, not paper – the envelope I’ve noticed her using as a bookmark.
Salma jumps up from her chair to retrieve the bookmark as it flutters to the ground. She casually offers it up to Jemma, who does not immediately take it. Instead – bizarrely – my sister flushes a deep, dark colour and begins stuttering.
‘Oh, er, um, oh—’ She reaches to take the envelope as Salma frowns, whipping it away again. Jemma is making the least amount of eye contact possible. ‘Er, thanks, that’s just… it’s not anything… it’s my… er… it’s just…um…’
Salma narrows her eyes at Jemma, then examines the item. ‘What? Why are you being so fecking weird? Whatisthis?’
‘Oh god,nothing!’ Jemma replies, her voice high and strangled, eyes wild. ‘It’s just this silly… just a thing…’ She swipes for the envelope but finds only empty air. Salma is too quick for her.
I watch Jemma floundering with fascination. Whatever this envelope is, it’s…something! I glance over at Harry, who’s sitting up straight in his chair, watching with keen interest.
‘Just tell us what it is, Jim-Jems?’ I say, faux-casually. ‘You can totally tell us anything. And it’s not good to keep secrets!’ I pause, feeling like a hypocrite, then add more forcefully than I can help, ‘Just tell us!’
My mind races with the many dramatic options: it’s a secret will from a long-lost relative. It’s newly discovered adoption papers and we’re not really related. It’s a million-pound offer letter from a publisher who wants Jemma to be the next… er, hum. I literally can’t think of a single wealthy author. Or any authors full stop, for that matter. Lorraine Kelly writes novels, right? She must be rich.
Jemma sighs, looking a bit defeated as her colour returns halfway to normal. ‘Fine, I’ll tell you,’ she says, ‘but it’s all a bit odd, OK? So don’t judge me.’
I suppress an excited gasp as me, Harry and Salma all lean forward to listen.
Jemma pauses, and looks me dead in the eye. ‘It’s a letter.’ She takes a breath. ‘From a stranger. It’s a woman at the library. We leave each other notes in this copy ofToo Good toBe True. We talk about books, mostly. She’s a big fan ofThe Very Hungry Caterpillarand—’
Salma holds up a hand, stopping Jemma in her tracks. ‘Wait, wait,’ she says, shaking her head. ‘Back up, babe. What the hell are you talking about? When did this start?’
I bounce on the spot, excited, even though this isn’t as good as a long-lost will.
‘Yeah, Jim-Jems, spill,’ I say, ‘we want details.’
Jemma laughs, then hesitates, glancing again at the novel in her hands. ‘OK, so it started about a month ago now. Someone left me a note. Here, in the inside cover ofToo Good to Be True—’
I gasp with the thrill of it, then frown. ‘Wait, a nice one? Or like,give me a million pounds or I’ll kill your favourite book?’
Salma sniggers at this and Harry looks horrified. ‘Do we need to call the police?’ he asks in a serious voice. Bless him, he’s adorable. I think he must’ve lived in a palace growing up, without a TV or phones, and no one around that ever lied. Apart from fun little lies about the Nazi origins of their family money.
Jemma opens the book cover to the library slip, where dates are listed – for returns, I guess?! ‘No police required,’ she says. ‘It’s just Karen. She’d left it here for me. She told me off for bending the book cover.’ She looks up fiercely. ‘But I bloody didn’t! That’s the point of the plastic anyway, isn’t it?’
