I live in the hotel with my grandparents. My dadda jan- my grandfather, he owns the hotel.
I can’t help myself. ‘Mr Wonderwig’s your granddad?’
She slaps her hand to her mouth as if shocked, but her eyes are sparkling.
I laugh too and try not to show that she’s made my legs go all wobbly.
You are so very cheeky.
Then she becomes serious.
Do you think it’s big to be disrespectful ?
I’m gutted. ‘Sorry,’ I say.
So u should be.
‘I am, really.’ She smiles at me, more shyly and deeply and my knees nearly collapse. ‘Why don’t you speak?’ I ask. ‘I mean, talk instead of using notes and stuff.’
She stops smiling; her fingers dab the keys slow and soft, as if she has to force them to work. I wish I hadn’t asked. She doesn’t look at me; just sits with her head bowed and her hands placed in her lap.
I can’t talk. I’m mute.