“Come on then,” said Maeveen, rising fluidly from the car. We followed her unsteadily, carrying our books and our bags up to the front door, which Maeveen opened at a touch. “Right,” she said, as we stepped inside. “What do you think?”

“It’s a T.V.,” said Spenser uncertainly. Indeed it was. We had both been in Maeveen’s living room before, but now a large-screen television was bolted to the wood-panelled wall, still adorned with brand-name stickers and price tags. The power cord dangled uselessly across its screen, plugged into nothing. It looked very out-of-place, this big glossy new thing looking down at all the old brass lamps and dull red curtains, the oil portraits and dusty wooden chairs.

“I thought you might like it,” said Maeveen. She kept playing with the fringe of her shawl, waiting for one of us to respond. “I never watch the thing myself, but I know you — ”

“Is it upside-down?” asked Spenser.

“What? No, dear, it’s just the way I saw it in the shop.”

“Are you sure?”

I looked, and yes, the labels were all upside-down, and the power button was far out of reach on the uppermost edge. “He’s right,” I said.

Maeveen looked uncomfortable. “Does it matter?” she said at last.

Spenser looked like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. I just sighed. “Which room is mine?”

“Well, I thought you could take the first one on the left upstairs, dear, but why…”
I lifted my suitcase, adjusted my bookbag, and started up the shadowy stairs. Behind me I heard her question trail off into silence.

(Copyright C. Russo 2015.  All rights reserved.  No part or whole of this excerpt may be reproduced in any way except by the author’s express written permission.)