Ash

I wait till lunchtime to talk to Joe. We’re out on the field, sitting in the sunshine.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ I say casually.

‘First time for everything,’ Joe says. He doesn’t turn round to look at me, but stares at some Year Eights who are throwing piles of cut grass at each other.

‘About the money,’ I say.

Joe’s head turns right away. He looks nervously around to make sure no one’s listening in. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I think we should hide it somewhere,’ I say.

He stares straight back at me, a kind of confused expression on his face.

‘I mean, if I keep it at mine, what happens if someone finds it? What if my mum tidies my room or something?’

He nods his head. ‘Good point.’

‘If we hide it somewhere else, even if someone finds it, there’s nothing to link it to us, right?’

‘Yeah,’ Joe says. ‘OK. Where?’

I shrug. ‘Somewhere no one’s gonna find it. Like the Old House in the woods.’

Joe watches the Year Eight kids as he thinks about it. After a while he nods. ‘All right.’

I smile. ‘OK,’ I say. ‘We should do it tonight.’

‘Straight after school?’ Joe says.

I shake my head. ‘No. We should move it after dark, when there’s no one around to see. Meet me at mine at one in the morning.’

Joe sighs and shakes his head. ‘One in the morning? You’re joking.’

But I know he’ll be there.

When I get in through the door, I can see Mum in the kitchen.

‘Hi, Ashley,’ she says. ‘Tea?’

‘Yeah, please,’ I say.

She fills the kettle and puts it on. And while she’s doing it, I stare at her. Thinking. Wanting to say something, but not wanting to be too obvious.

‘Did you have a good day?’ I ask her as she gets the mugs out.

She plonks the mugs down on the surface and then looks at me, like she doesn’t quite understand. ‘What are you after?’

I shake my head. ‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘Just being nice. There’s no law against that, is there?’

Mum opens the fridge and gets some milk out. ‘No,’ she says, pouring some into each mug. ‘Sorry.’

‘So did you?’

‘Yeah. Not bad,’ she says. ‘A bit weird.’

It’s quiet for a while. Mum finishes making the tea and then passes me a cup.

‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘What was so weird about your day?’

Mum sighs and looks into the distance. Then all of a sudden she looks at me and says, ‘Come on, let’s go and sit down in the lounge.’

So we go through and sit down. Mum takes a sip of her tea and then she looks at me seriously. ‘I got some post today,’ she says.

‘That is weird,’ I say sarcastically.

Mum rolls her eyes. ‘No, Ashley, I got some very strange post today.’

‘What?’

I get an urge to look away from her, so that she can’t read the look in my eyes, so that I can’t give anything away. But I fight the urge and look her straight back in the eyes.

‘An envelope filled with money,’ Mum says. ‘Two thousand pounds.’

I try and look surprised, confused. ‘What?’ I say. ‘Why?’

Mum shakes her head and takes another sip. ‘I don’t know,’ she says. ‘There was no letter with it and I didn’t recognise the handwriting on the envelope. It’s a complete mystery.’

I smile. ‘That’s great,’ I say.

Mum raises an eyebrow. ‘Is it?’

I nod. ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘You and Dad are always arguing about money.’

Mum sort of laughs, though I don’t think she thinks it funny. ‘If it wasn’t money, we’d row about something else,’ she says. ‘Anyway, two thousand pounds wouldn’t even pay off the interest!’

‘But it’ll help, won’t it?’ I say.

Mum takes another sip of tea. ‘It would,’ she says, nodding her head. ‘Except I can’t keep it, can I?’

I have a sinking feeling. ‘Why?’

Mum raises both her eyebrows. ‘Because it isn’t mine, Ashley.’

‘Did it have your name on the envelope?’

‘Well, yes, but . . .’

‘Then it’s yours, isn’t it?’

Mum sighs. She takes another sip of tea. ‘If I knew where it came from, then perhaps,’ she says. ‘But I’ve been thinking about it and I have no idea who might have sent it.’

It’s silent for a while. Mum sits and drinks her tea. And I start wishing that I hadn’t tried to do something nice. She wasn’t meant to get suspicious. This never happened to Robin Hood.

‘Perhaps I should take it to the police,’ Mum says.

I sit up right away. ‘What? Why?’ And I realise as soon as I’ve done it that I’m not acting very cool.

But Mum doesn’t seem to notice. She’s in her own little world. ‘Because,’ she says, ‘it’s a bit strange, isn’t it? Money turning up in the post like that, addressed to me.’

I nod. This has gone wrong. She was supposed to take the money and use it to help pay some debts or something. It was meant to make her and Dad happier. She was s’posed to be so happy that the money was there that she wouldn’t even think about where it came from. Bollocks.

‘Maybe you should just keep it somewhere safe,’ I say. ‘Use it if you need to. Don’t take it to the police.’

Mum sips her cup of tea then puts it down on a coaster. She sighs. ‘We’ll see,’ she says.

I’m up in my room after tea. Mum’s downstairs watching TV. Dad’s still at work, as usual. I push my swivel chair across the room and wedge it underneath the door handle, so no one can get in. I walk over to my wardrobe and pull the bag out. I unzip it. I pick up a wodge of notes and look at them. I smile. It feels kind of mad to be getting rid of it all. Well, I guess we’re not getting rid of it exactly . . .

But there’s still a part of me that wants the money here, where I can get to it. I look at the notes in my hand. I count them. Three fifties, eight twenties and five tens. Three hundred and sixty quid. I put my hand in the bag and pull out two more twenties. Four hundred pounds. Joe will never know it’s here and not in the bag. I fold the money up and hide it in the drawer of my bedside cabinet underneath a couple of old magazines.