Free Never a Perfect Moment by Cathy Cole Page B

“Really, Eve, there’s no need to—”
    â€œI insist,” said Eve. She sat down at the kitchen table and looked at the teapot with its chipped spout. “How about a new teapot? I’m sure I could find you a lovely one.”
    â€œI quite like the one we’ve got, thanks,” said Polly’s mum. “It’s full of memories.”
    And tea , Polly thought.
    â€œYou really don’t need to buy anything for us, Eve,” her mum continued. “It’s been a pleasure having you.”
    â€œWell, I will anyway,” said Eve, looking determined. “And I’ll buy you something too, Polly. There is a darling new boutique that’s opened on Marine Parade with the most glorious cashmere. We can go there.”
    Polly caught her mother’s eye. Cashmere wasn’t really her thing.
    â€œThat’s very kind of you, Eve,” said Polly’s mum with a sigh. “We’d love to accept. I’ll just call Beth and tell her to meet us at the Ciao Café in what, half an hour?”

FOURTEEN
    Polly sat a little further down in her chair. She wished Eve hadn’t chosen the window seat in the café. Everyone walking down Church Road and along the high street could see them all sitting there. Eve and Polly’s mum and Ms Andrews and her. She’d seen at least five people she recognized from school poke each other and whisper at the sight of Polly’s mum and their history teacher with Eve.
    â€œIs everything all right, Polly?” said Polly’s mum, noticing.
    â€œI just dropped my napkin,” Polly mumbled.
    She knew it was wrong to feel this embarrassed. So her mum was dating her history teacher. And the whole school was gossiping about Eve’s sexuality. So what? Why did any of it matter?
    As Polly straightened up, she was surprised to see tears rolling down Eve’s cheeks. She’d obviously missed something important in the conversation.
    â€œPeople can be so unkind,” said Polly’s mother with feeling.
    Ms Andrews nodded in agreement. “If the world were more open to difference, it would be a much happier place. How have you been coping?”
    Two year eleven boys gawped through the window at their table, threw their heads back and roared with laughter. Polly died yet another death.
    â€œIt hasn’t been great,” Eve admitted, dabbing at her cheeks with a balled-up napkin. “Coming right after the awful tragedy with Ryan, and Daddy being in the papers, and all those horrible things the journalist said about how irresponsible I was. And then the gay thing at school, and my mum’s awful reaction. It’s been tough.”
    Polly’s mother and Ms Andrews murmured sympathetically. Polly sat, frozen with guilt, scolding herself for being so hard on Eve. Had she forgotten all the problems Eve had been dealing with lately? She resolved to be more patient with her. After coffee, they split up. Eve and Polly headed to some of the clothes shops along the front, while Polly’s mum and Ms Andrews went to the homeware store on Church Road to look at cushions.
    â€œThis is the place I was talking about this morning,” said Eve, seizing Polly’s hand and dragging her towards a little shop. “Come on, let’s see if I can find you something nice.”
    Polly sat on the small spindly chair at the back of the shop as Eve exclaimed over the shining chrome rails of little beaded tops and trousers. This wasn’t the kind of place Polly was used to shopping in. Everything looked too perfect. Even a little boring, if she was honest. Polly enjoyed bright colours and fun patterns.
    A price tag brushed against her face. She glanced absently at the tag.
    A hundred and fifty pounds for a cardigan? Polly thought, glued to her chair. That was insane.
    â€œHere,” Eve said, thrusting a thin sea-green jumper into Polly’s arms. “Just your colour. Have you thought about dying your