The skip’s gone from the front strip. I wonder when they’ll deliver another one. Splints licks my hand with a dry tongue. I lead him to the tap at the side of her house and let him lap at the water as it splashes to the ground. I peer in the windows; the human animal smell still pushes into my nostrils through the glass. Lettie’s house is as dark as ours but it sits more solidly. It’s like a big wooden Splinter waiting patiently for her to get back. I lift the lid on the chest and pull out the kettle and a cup. When Splints has finished his slurping I fill it up and make myself a hot chocolate.

We settle, Splints in front of Lettie’s seat. The dusk slips to dark. I sit on Lettie’s chair, sipping my drink, watching the street. So this is Lettie. It’s not so bad. Splinter snores. A figure moves down the street. I watch her and try not to tense up.

I wasn’t prepared for the relief. And the shame.

“What’re you up to, kiddo?”

“Just waiting for Goat-o.”

Lettie snorts and settles into my chair, crossing her feet in front of her. “Well, you’d better get comfortable, we could be here for a while.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” She leans forward and touches the kettle with her fingers. “That still hot?” I shrug. “It’ll do.”

She makes herself a hot chocolate, actions she’s done countless times before. I don’t know why this time it makes my eyes fill. The sound of the spoon hitting the cup has Splinter up and licking her wrist. Lettie pushes his face away. “Heard you got into some trouble.”

I take a sip and swallow before answering. “Yep.” I keep my gaze on the ground.

The chair creaks as she shifts her weight in it. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with me, would it?”

I watch the tear drip off my nose and disappear into the hot chocolate. You used to say salt made chocolate taste better. “I’m sorry, Lettie.” It comes out quiet, but I can tell by the stillness in her that she heard. I clear my throat and glance at her chin. “About what I said to you.”

She nods. “I know.”

I look at her and she gives me a half smile.

“I was mean.”

“Well, at least you didn’t punch me in the nose.”

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.