If it wasn’t for Kieron he wouldn’t give her behaviour a second thought but he’s tempted to ring Dad. What would he say? Mum’s acting bonkers? He knows that from the butter in the microwave and yet he’s still gone to work. He’ll text Kieron throughout the day, make sure he’s okay.

Reluctantly, Connor closes the front door behind him and fires off a message to Ryan and Tyler, arranging to meet them on the corner of Deene Street again at 8.30. He likes this time of morning. It’s fresh. He winds his scarf around his neck, he doesn’t mind the chill, it adds to the sensation of newness. Possibilities. The rising sun, the damp mist in the air strokes his skin. Reminds him that he is alive.

Suddenly guilty at the thought of his life stretched out in front of him, he checks his watch. It’s not yet eight. He has time.

He veers a right, hurries before he changes his mind. Between the rooftops he can see the spike of the church tower, and then he’s there. Slipping through the black wrought iron gates.

Connor picks his way down the winding path, careful where he treads, until he reaches the place that makes him feel lonely and sad and welcome and angry and… he supposes, comfortable. So many emotions too big for him to name.

‘So…’ Connor sits cross-legged in front of the headstone. He reaches out his finger and traces the butterflies that circle around her name. ‘I’ve gone back to school. Shocking, I know.’

He pauses – a beat long enough for the answer that comes only in his mind.

‘Yeah.’ He shakes his head. ‘It’s as bad as I thought. Nobody is really talking to me except Ryan and Tyler.’ Again he pauses. ‘I know. I know. It’s only a few more months but then what?’ The silent voice reminds him of his hopes and dreams.

‘Yeah, but…’ His voice catches. ‘If I go away to uni then you’ll still be stuck here on your own and I’m sorry.’ His throat is too small to release the rest of his apologies.

I’m sorry I’m alive.

I’m sorry you’re not.

But he knows that he doesn’t have to always speak out loud; on some level, she hears him anyway.

He presses his palm against the butterflies again, thinks of flying and freedom and he wonders what happens… after.

Is there a good place and a bad place? Where will he end up? Away from everyone he loves? What if Kieron ends up there soon? His brother is nothing but goodness just like…

He lowers his forehead onto the cold marble.

Sugar and spice and all things nice.

He wraps his arms around the headstone and wishes he were holding her. He can’t bring comfort to her now. He couldn’t then. He is…