‘You know doctors, Ash,’ he replied. Actually, I didn’t. Until recently I hadn’t needed any medical treatment, unlike Aiden who needed it constantly. ‘They think you’re an idiot who can’t understand or handle the truth. So they just went on about head trauma, which means nothing at all really. Just that your head’s been damaged and I could have told them that.’ Aiden rarely talked about his medical experiences and he never made judgements about the doctors treating him. I felt a little uneasy. I mean, I know he was entitled to feel grumpy and maybe even angry at the injuries he’d got, but it’s just that Aiden always … accepted what happened to him, rather than complaining about it. I didn’t know whether to be pleased or worried that he was showing another side to his personality. ‘The cage is to keep my head steady while it heals,’ he continued. ‘Stop my brain rattling around in there, or something. Mum says it’s coming off in a few days and I’ll also be able to get out of this chair. I hate being stuck in here, so that’s good news for once.’

‘I’m so sorry you’ve gone through all this, Aiden,’ I said. ‘And I want you to know how grateful I am that you risked your life to save mine. You’ve been amazingly brave.’

‘Or amazingly dumb,’ said Aiden. ‘Depends on how you look at it.’

I put my head to one side. Another remark I never would have thought he’d make. But if anyone needed to have some slack cut for him, it was Aiden.

‘What were you thinking about?’ I said.

‘When?’

‘When I came in you were staring at the bookshelves and not like you were trying to decide what to read next. It seemed like you were thinking about something important.’

Aiden swung his wheelchair around and headed out the door towards the kitchen. I followed. I was going to offer to push him but almost instinctively knew that wouldn’t be a good idea. Aiden was in a strange mood and I didn’t think he’d like me interfering.

‘The spider,’ he said over his shoulder.

He wheeled himself to the fridge door, opened it and took out a flask of his green goo. Breakfast.

‘What?’

He moved over to the kitchen table, unscrewed the flask and took a swig. I wanted to turn my eyes away, but forced myself to watch. He deserved that much respect.

‘That golden orb-weaving spider we saw on camp,’ he said.

‘It was amazing. Mr Meredith told me not to let anyone else, other than you, know it was there. He said some of the other kids would destroy it, just because they could.’

‘Probably right about that, our amazing, talented and empathetic teacher. But I was thinking it was symbolic of our family, Ash.’

‘What?’ This was getting weird.

‘Think about it,’ he said. ‘The home the spider built was beautiful. She must have spent an enormous amount of time constructing it. An engineering marvel. Like this place.’ He spread his arms wide. ‘And there it is, in its environment, but if you didn’t catch it at just the right angle, you’d never know it was there. Just like this place.’