I can’t manage a smile. “How d’you know?”

“His mum came to see me when she couldn’t get hold of anyone at your place. Seems you and I are seen as a bit of a team.”

My stomach twists the hot chocolate into something sharp. I’ve really fucked up.

I swallow again, trying not to cry, but it leaks out the edges, making my lips wobble.

“His mum came looking for yours, I assume. And when she couldn’t find anyone at your house she came knocking on my door. Demanded to know where you all were.”

I inhale the tears and concentrate on my cup. “What did you tell her?”

“Told her you were both out. Ballet lessons.” I look up and she gives me a wink. “No one ever thinks ballet kids are trouble.”

I’m not sure what to say to this. “Thanks. I guess.”

Lettie leans back and drinks her drink. Splinter settles his head in her lap with a sigh and she scratches him softly behind the ear. My brain’s churning through the options, none of them great.

“She’s dogged, that one,” Lettie observes. “I know her type.” This makes her smile, but there’s not a lot of happy in it. “She’ll be back, Rae.” I can feel her looking at me. I watch her stroking Splinter’s ear.

“Lettie, can you call her?” My fingers itch to slip into my pocket, but I keep them wrapped around my cup, leaving your phone where it is.

“I’ve already spoken to her.”

“No, I mean—”

“I know what you mean.”

“Well, can you?”

She sighs. “I know why you’re asking. Seems logical after I’ve done it for you twice already.” I nod, hopeful. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea this time, kiddo.”

“Why not? You did it before, what’s the difference?”

“I’m not so sure I should have done it before, to be honest.” It’s Lettie’s turn not to look at me. “The difference is: that woman lives next door. She’s not someone wanting their job done quickly over the phone.”

“That’s not fair. I helped you.” I gesture at her house.

Lettie nods. “That’s true. And I appreciate the help.” I smile, relieved. “I also appreciate there may have been some extra motivation in the form of keeping the council away.” She gives me her bird eye and the bottom drops out of my stomach. I’m losing her.

I point at my shin, my voice getting squeaky. “But I didn’t tell anyone about my leg.”

“I think that might have more to do with my previous point than loyalty to me . . .”

“But—”

“. . . but I appreciated your sentiment.”

“She’s an interfering busybody, you said so yourself.”

“True enough. But that’s not a problem when there’s nothing to hide, is it?”

The unfairness makes my hands shake. “Just because your house is clean now doesn’t mean you’re better than me. Doesn’t mean I don’t deserve some protection too.”