Conor rolled his eyes, but not in a bad way. “Yes, Mum, you’ve told me a hundred times.”
“Keep an eye on it for me while I’m away, will you?” she said.
“Make sure it’s still here when I get back?” And Conor knew this was her way of telling him she was coming back,
so all he did was nod and they both kept looking out at the tree, which stayed a tree, no matter how long they looked.
GRANDMA’S HOUSE
Five days. The monster hadn’t come for five days. Maybe it didn’t know where his grandma lived.
Or maybe it was just too far to come. She didn’t have much of a garden anyway,
even though her house was way bigger than Conor and his mum’s.
She’d crammed her back garden with sheds and a stone pond and a wood-panelled “office”
she’d had installed across the back half, where she did most of her estate agent work,
a job so boring Conor never listened past the first sentence of her description of it.
Everything else was just brick paths and flowers in pots. No room for a tree at all. It didn’t even have grass.
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