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And Mr. Shears said, “What’s he going to do? There’s no school for him to go to. We’ve both got jobs. It’s bloody ridiculous.”
Then she had to go back to the shopping center to buy me some clothes and some pajamas and a toothbrush and a flannel, so I stayed in the spare room while she was gone because I didn’t want to be in the same room as Mr. Shears because I was frightened of him.
And I said, “I have to go back because I have to sit my maths A level.
If you ever do that again, I swear to God, Christopher, I love you, but … I don’t know what I’ll do.
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