Free Without Looking Back by Tabitha Suzuma Page A

declared, stretching out over her Barbie duvet cover.
    ‘I think that could be arranged,’ Dad replied.
    ‘Really? Oh, yippee! I want to call Maman and tell her about my new room. Can I call her now, Daddy?’
    Dad appeared not to have heard; he was collecting up his tools, ready to move on to the next room.
    ‘Can I call
Mummy
?’ Millie repeated, appearing tothink her use of the French word was the reason Dad hadn’t replied.
    Dad picked up his toolbox and went next door to the boys’ room. Louis followed him, Millie skipping behind. ‘Can I, Daddy, can I, can I?’
    Dad put down his toolbox on Louis’ bed, the colour high in his cheeks. ‘Not now, Millie, she’ll be at work.’
    ‘But Mummy’s always at work. She lets me call her at work – I’m allowed.’
    ‘Only if it’s for something important,’ Louis reminded her.
    ‘But this
is
important. I want to tell her about my new room! Oh please, Daddy!’
    ‘We can’t call her yet, we haven’t got a phone installed,’ Dad told her.
    ‘But on your mobile—’
    ‘No, Millie, it’s too expensive.’ The tone of Dad’s voice signalled that the discussion was over.
    For a moment Millie looked upset, hurt even. Then she quickly recovered, remembering her new bed, and ran back to her room.
    Louis and Dad got to work on the second bed, Louis cutting open the cardboard boxes while Dad pored over the instructions. Louis lined up the wooden panels according to size and knelt on the carpet opposite hisfather, following his lead with the first set of screws. Louis used the electric screwdriver while Dad took the manual one, and once the screws were in place, they returned to the instruction leaflet, studying it together.
    ‘I think we have to hammer in the dowels next,’ Louis said, picking up the handful of wooden pegs.
    ‘OK, you do that while I screw the bolts into the blocks,’ Dad replied. ‘Where’s the electric screwdriver?’
    ‘Here. Can you pass me the hammer?’
    ‘Here.’
    For several minutes they worked in silence, the pounding of the hammer filling the air. When Louis sat back and looked critically at his handiwork, Dad glanced over and said, ‘Good job. You’ve got them in nice and deep.’
    ‘D’you want a hand with the bolts?’ Louis asked him.
    ‘Yes please.’
    Louis picked up the manual screwdriver and got stuck in. There was another silence. Then Dad said, ‘Louis, do you like it here?’
    The screwdriver slipped sharply away from the bolt. Louis swore. He put the tip back into place and raised himself on his knees for leverage. A moment passed. ‘Yeah.’
    ‘
Really
like it? More than Paris?’
    ‘It’s different,’ Louis said.
    ‘But where would you prefer to live? If you had the choice, I mean.’ Dad was sitting back on his heels, watching Louis carefully.
    Louis picked up the discarded electric screwdriver. ‘Can I use this then?’
    ‘Go ahead.’ Another moment. ‘Louis?’
    ‘Mm.’
    ‘You haven’t answered my question.’
    ‘I don’t know.’ Louis narrowed his eyes in concentration and watched the screw whirr noisily into the wood. ‘Is that in far enough?’
    ‘That’s fine . . . I mean, if you had the choice. Would you prefer to live in a big city like Paris or out in the countryside somewhere like this?’
    ‘Both,’ Louis said.
    ‘Both?’ It clearly wasn’t the answer Dad was expecting.
    ‘Yeah, term time in Paris, and then holidays here in England.’ Louis leaned forward to look at the instruction sheet. ‘OK, so now we have to position the slats between the side rails. Look, we’re almost done!’

Chapter Five
    SATURDAY SEEMED TO creep up on them completely unexpectedly; they were sitting around the breakfast table amidst the crumbs and the croissants and the pots of jam when Millie caught sight of the date on Dad’s newspaper and suddenly declared, ‘We’re going home tomorrow.’
    There was a silence and Louis exchanged glances with Max and Millie. He knew what they were