Sometimes he wants to lie down in the middle of the road and force the traffic to slow, stop.

He just wants everything to slow.

Stop.

Chapter Ten

Lucy

‘It’s the school,’ I tell Mel, palpitations in my chest as I fumble to answer the phone, my handset almost slipping through my nervous palm.

‘Is Connor okay?’ I ask the instant I’m connected.

‘Connor? Mrs Walsh? This is Caro— Ms Baker… I’m the new receptionist.’ The voice at the end of the phone sounds young. Awkward. ‘So, Kieron has been marked as absent but, basically, you haven’t left a message on the absence line?’

‘Sorry. It slipped my mind. He’s not long out of hospital. I’m not sure when he’ll be back.’

‘Right, but… basically procedure is that you must ring in every day, Mrs Walsh.’

‘But I can tell you now that he definitely won’t be in this week.’

‘Mr Marshall has actually told me—’

‘Mr Marshall?’ I say his name too loudly. ‘He’s still the head teacher?’ Instinctively, my hand reaches for Mel’s and she encloses my fingers inside hers.

‘Yes?’ There’s an inflection in Ms Baker’s voice, a question not a statement. She doesn’t know.

She doesn’t know what happened.

‘Kieron won’t be in for the rest of the week,’ I garble before cutting the call.

‘Shit,’ Mel says. ‘That bloody Facebook post in the mums’ group said he’d been sacked.’

‘I know. I guess if the board fired him if would be harsh, considering…’

‘Perhaps they haven’t made a final decision yet? It’s only been a few weeks. How long do these things take to be decided?’

‘I don’t know.’ I fiddle with a stray thread dangling from my sleeve.

‘The boys will be okay though?’ she says. ‘He can’t blame them, surely? He has to be impartial.’

‘Of course.’ I try to reassure her. Reassure myself. ‘They’ll be fine.’

They won’t-they won’t-they won’t.

The hands of the clock tick out their warning as they march from the present into the future. More than anything I wish I could wind them back and step into the past. Rewrite history.

Keep us safe.

At home, I check on Kieron who’s watching The Incredibles and then I settle myself at the kitchen table and ring Aidan. While I wait for him to answer, I run my fingertips lightly over the indents of forks stabbed against the soft pine, dents of cups banged for more juice. The marks of a family.

‘Hello,’ he says.

‘Can you talk?’

‘Yes. I’m on my way to Brampton Stables. Hands-free so don’t worry. Is everything okay?’

‘Mr Marshall is still the head teacher.’

‘That’s not ideal but it’s not like Connor will see much of him, if anything.’

‘I know but it’s jarred me.’

‘I called Mel earlier.’ Aidan changes the subject.