She makes a pained expression. ‘No, I mean, yeah, I wish I could. But, no, that’s not what I mean. Can you watch Dan for me. An hour – two, tops. I have to go do something and his dad…’ she looks down at her son, ‘he’s…busy. Would you mind? He’ll be no bother will you, Dan?’

Dan looks up at his mum but says nothing.

‘Erm, sure,’ I say. ‘I have to work later, but two hours max should be okay. Do I need anything special for him? Food? Toys? Wouldn’t it be easier if I sit him in your place?’

‘No,’ she says sternly. ‘Sorry. I mean…’ Her tone softens and she forces a smile. ‘The flat is a real mess. Go on, Danny, go play with your new friend.’ She mimes over his head and I can understand both words, over twenty years of practice. ‘Thank you.’

The door closes.

Just me and the kid, then.

He sits down meekly on the end of my sofa and looks at the back of his hand. He’s basically me from twenty years ago. Awkward, shy, an observer of life rather than a participant. My mum never palmed me off to neighbours, but there was one woman I’ll never forget. When I was fourteen, the same year Dad was killed, the year from hell. She was a school-dinner lady, with frizzy hair and beautiful green cat eyes. She could see what was happening to Mum. She could tell. Once a fortnight she’d ask if I wanted to go over to her place for cod in boiled-egg sauce or meatloaf with mash. She’d do what some mums do every day, but she’d concentrate all that simple quotidian love into a single evening. How’s school? What music are you listening to these days? Isn’t the ice on the lake thick this year? Do you need a new coat, because I know a great discount place just outside town? Simple questions. Parental questions. Nothing showy. Never, ‘How are you coping without your dad? Or, ‘Is your mum okay?’ Or, ‘What’s it like being deaf?’ Never any of those. She must have known I didn’t have the strength or the distance or the vocabulary for them. Just practical questions that made me feel safe. Made me feel like a fourteen-year-old again.

‘I said, can I have some water, please?’

Shit.

‘Sorry, Dan. I didn’t hear. I’ll get it for you.’

I run the tap and then I turn and say, you sure you don’t want a Sprite? I have Sprite.’

‘Yes, please. Thank you.’

I pour us both Sprites.