Mum looks genuinely interested. ‘Yes, I have heard this! But also, did you know . . .’ And soon enough Mum and Elle have launched into a conversation about different traditions in the theatre – something I could never talk about.

Elle’s like a chameleon, she always knows what to say. She changes personalities depending on who she’s around and can talk to just about anyone, like Mum. I’m just a plain old lizard, darting into the corner of every room I enter.

While they talk, I get distracted by the countdown on my phone. Fifteen minutes.

That’s when tickets to the biggest video gaming convention of the year are released. Dad promised he would go with me if I could get us both tickets. I’ve been saving up my birthday money for it.

The thing is, they can sometimes sell out in minutes, so you have to be quick.

‘Hurry up, Safiya!’ Mum calls. I look up and find her at the door of the coffee shop tapping her feet, impatient to leave.

Mum and I look so similar we could almost be twins, apart from our hair and my glasses. We both have olive skin and brown eyes. Except Mum has black curls that float down her back, whereas my hair hangs by my waist in limp waves.

‘Mum, the play doesn’t start for another half-hour,’ I protest. Secretly I want to stay here long enough to buy the tickets before we go inside. But if I tell Mum that she won’t understand.

‘I want to find our seats early, get comfortable!’

‘And that takes half an hour?’

Mum sighs, opens her mouth to retort, and then storms out of the coffee shop.

I can’t help but roll my eyes. Mum can be so hot and cold sometimes, like a sunny winter’s day. Things can be going really well, then suddenly everything changes.

The truth is, even though Mum and I look alike, we’re not very similar in other ways. Often it’s like we’re on different pages of the same book, always just missing each other as the page turns.

‘Come on, Saff,’ Elle says, reaching for my hand. She’s used to mine and Mum’s bickering now.

When we get into the theatre foyer it’s packed, and I walk with Elle until we find Mum outside the hall, tickets in hand. She hasn’t seen us yet.

Elle says she’s going to pop to the toilets quickly so I stop, for a moment, and watch Mum standing there alone. Her eyes are far away, like they’re in a different world entirely. Mum’s been so intense about this show, more than I’ve ever seen her before. You’d think we were going to the West End, not the local theatre in our tiny town.