This is the version that has been edited by Fran, and I really like it. Was going to add something to the ending but changed my mind cos it would go over the word count too much. I was planning to send it to WW but am now thinking TWN. Question - which do you think it is more suitable for?
Helping Abbie
Abbie hunched her shoulders as she took in her mum’s suggestion. Why had her mum asked her to go to the shops, talk to the shopkeepers? Mum knew her Asperger’s made it hard for her to talk to people.
“Do I have to?” she asked, like a kid might when asked to do homework. But she wasn’t a kid. She was eighteen.
“Your nan asked me to pop round and help her hem some curtains. Guessing you wouldn’t prefer to do that instead?”
Abbie loved going to her nan’s house. But hem curtains? Sewing had never been her thing at school. Computers had. Now if her nan had needed some help book a holiday online, Abbie would have been happy with that.
“Here’s the ticket for my coat. And my prescription. They close at 1pm and I’m nearly out of tablets.”
There were four people in front of Abbie at the chemist’s. Her heartbeat quickened, she twiddled with her hair and tapped the fingers of her other hand on her leg. She tried to use the techniques she’d learnt about tricky situations, but it was difficult. She was so intent on twiddling she was surprised when the lady behind nudged her.
“Your turn, love.”
‘Abbie flushed.
“Sorry,” she muttered.
“Here you go,” the shop assistant said, handing the prescription over, smiling at Abbie. “Your mum busy today?”
Abbie nodded.
“Say hello to her for me.”
Abbie took deep breaths before entering the cleaner’s.
“I’ll just be a tick,” the man behind the counter said, taking Abbie’s ticket. “On your own today?”
“Yes, Mum’s busy. That’s the one,” she said pointing at the coat as it swung by on the crowded rack.
“So many to sort through,” the man said. “People forget to come and collect them.”
“You could remind them,” Abbie said, the words accidentally jumbling out. “If you set it up on your computer.” She nodded to an ancient looking laptop on the corner of the counter. Now she was in her comfort zone.
The man looked over his glasses, puzzled.
“Remind them?”
“It’s easy,” Abbie said. “Computing was my favourite subject at school.”
“Maybe easy for you youngsters. I’m more of a what do you call it, a technophobe.”
“Can I take a look?” Abbie asked, heading for the laptop. It was definitely an old model, but she could work with it. But not here, not in the shop.
“Help yourself,” he said.
“OK, I can work it out for you, but it’ll take a day or two. Mind if I take it home?”
“Not at all. I’m not using it. If you can work some magic and I can get rid of some of these coats,” he swung his arm around “I’ll be delighted. Next time you and your mum are in I’ll give you 3 items free. Your mum must be proud, say hello to her for me.”
Abbie’s face flooded with heat and she dived out of the shop, carrying the laptop.
“Hello, Abbie, don’t see you out on your own often.”
Mrs Jones, their neighbour. Abbie gave her a smile.
“Mum had a few errands for me,” she indicated the coat over her arm and held up the bag containing the laptop. “I said I’d help Mr Grace. He’s got too uncollected items in his shop and I said it would be easy enough to set something up to send out reminders to his customers. Those who have emails.”
“Don’t talk to me about emails,” groaned Mrs Jones. “I’m in that much trouble with my granddaughter in Australia for not emailing her more often. She tells me it’s free, she can read them when I’m asleep, that it’s a perfect way to communicate if you live halfway around the world. Thing is, I don’t know a mouse from a gerbil, but I’m too embarrassed to say.”
Abbie grinned. A gerbil. Mrs Jones was funny.
“She taught me before she left, but she was so quick, I’d forgotten by the time she reached the front door.”
Abbie understood. Not everyone was a whizz on computers. People were good at different things. She’d always admired the students who could stand up and debate things in front of the whole school. She’d never have been able to do that.
“I’ll pop round later and give you a hand,” Abbie said.
“That's great. Say hello to your mum for me. And thank you.”
Abbie smiled.
Abbie was surprised to see her mum home when she got back.
And then it dawned on her.
“You didn't go to Nan's, did you? Not today.”
“No.” Her mum shook her head.
“You wanted me to do that on my own, didn’t you?”
Her mum nodded, her eyes twinkling.
Abbie laughed. She said, “Thank you. You made me get out and find something to do. You made me talk to people, but people you know.”
Abbie’s mum nodded.
“Well, they all say to say hello.”
“Nice, aren’t they?”
“They are Mum, and I love you, but your plan backfired.”
Her mum raised an eyebrow. “How?”
“I’m helping the man from the cleaners with reminders for his customers, and Mrs Jones with emails to her granddaughter. You know, the one in Australia. So, you see, me loving my computer come in handy.”
“Well, that’s great news Abbie. I don’t mind a bit. You’re all enthusiastic. You know I worry about how much time you spent in front of a screen since leaving school. I know it’s easier to avoid social situations for you than to face people. I’m proud of you for facing your fears.”
Her mum held her hand up. Abbie followed her example and they did a soft high five.
“Mr Grace said you should be proud of me.”
“I am. Not just for going out and meeting people but offering to help people too.”
“I’m pleased I managed it. And I’ve had an idea. Rather than look for a ‘proper job’ like you say I should, how about I try my own small business first. In computing. I’ll call it Helping Abbie, Helping You.”
Her mum looked like she was thinking.
“Not a bad idea, Abbie. I think you should give it a go. And, any chance Abbie’s helping hands can help me with your nan’s curtains tomorrow? No sewing involved. Just holding pins.”
Abbie smiled.
How could she possibly refuse?
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