One Coin, One Small Try

Every afternoon Tobin opened his shop beneath the hazel tree. He was a young raccoon with careful paws and a biscuit tin full of pretend shop coins. Flat stones were bread. Pinecones were pears. His sister Nell always bought three pears and asked whether they were ripe. Tobin always said they were perfect. He liked knowing what came next, right down to the little rattle when he counted her change.

"Let's play explorers today," Nell said. She laid a leaf beside the tin. "We could look closely at things and draw what we find. This leaf could be our first discovery." Tobin pushed three pinecones towards her. "The shop is open." "I know," said Nell. "I just feel like a different game."

Tobin pressed the lid onto his biscuit tin. His tummy tightened as though he had swallowed a knot. He felt worried, and a little cross with Nell for changing their afternoon. If I become someone who plays explorers, he thought, perhaps I won't be someone who plays shop anymore. "What happens to an old favourite when you start something new?" he asked. "Does it stop being yours?"