We stare at one another. Will’s beefed up and his hair has grown out of the short military cut – the only hairstyle my brothers were allowed. It’s hanging across his face, blond like mine. I can see my father in his mouth and jawline. His eyes are similarly dark blue, intense and watchful. But he has wrinkles around those eyes. Smile wrinkles. This throws me more than anything

Will steps forwards and gives me an awkward hug – something he’s never done before in his life. I hug him back tentatively.

“Sorry to turn up unannounced. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

Lily’s voice drifts towards us and Will lets me go.

“You’re busy,” he says. “I can come back”

“It’s m-my friends,” I stammer. “Do you… would you like to come in?”

Will shrugs and I notice he isn’t wearing proper shoes. He’s in scuffed sandals. And there’s dried mud on his left knee beneath his shorts. Who is this stranger?

He lifts his hand and bites the tip of his thumb. Deep worry lines crease his forehead.

“I’m not great with people,” he mutters, his thumb still between his teeth.

I figure he’s going to leave, but he continues to stand there looking at me.

“They’re old friends from university days,” I say. “You’ve met them once before. Briefly. At James’ twenty-first.”

The second to last time I saw anyone in my family.

Will nods slowly. I can’t believe he hasn’t drawn blood the way he’s gnawing at his thumb. I want to pull his hand out of his mouth and tell him to leave it alone.

“It’s up to you,” I say, taking a step back. “No pressure.”

Truth is, I don’t really want him to leave. After the initial shock of seeing my brother, I’m nervous but excited. Someone in the family has actually decided to find me. Then I have another thought: he wants money. It makes much more sense. Why did I ever think a member of my screwed-up family would seek me out because they wanted to reconnect, to have a relationship with me? I feel like an idiot.

Will removes his thumb. “OK,” he says. “I’d like to come in. Thanks, Trish.”

I should send him packing now. Tell him I can see through his vulnerable “I’m not good with people” disguise.

I narrow my eyes and dip my head to indicate he can enter my house. I want him to know I’m on to him, though. And that I have the power in this situation, not him.

I follow my brother into the living room. My friends stand and introduce themselves, politely shaking his hand. No doubt remembering how important strict manners are to my family –I’ve told them often enough over the years.