‘Not really,’ he said. There was no hesitation. He kicked away from the wall and floated on his back a metre away, staring at the ceiling. ‘I like having my own room. It feels like a place I don’t have to share. I asked Mum and Dad and they said I could stay where I am.’ He scissored up to face me, treading water. ‘No offence, Ash. And anyway, you’ve always moaned about having me in there. Plus, let’s be honest. We’re both thirteen now. It’s not like we’re kids afraid of the dark.’

‘You’re right,’ I said, as breezily as I could manage. ‘Way too old to be sharing a room.’ I splashed him in the face. ‘I don’t even like you,’ I added.

‘You said you loved me last night.’

‘That’s when you were sick and stuck in that wheelchair. I felt sorry for you.’

He splashed me back and that started a proper water war, which got us both laughing.

So why was it that I felt a little sad when I thought about going to bed that night?

9

9

The class gave us a round of applause when we entered the classroom the following Monday. This time I didn’t feel embarrassed at being the centre of attention. I even gave a small bow before sitting down next to Charlotte.

‘Welcome back,’ said Mr Meredith. ‘We’ve missed you, Ashleigh and Aiden Delatour, and we’re thrilled you have returned to the fold. If you see me at recess, I will let you know the work you’ve missed. Now.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Time, class, to learn about the Great European Famine of Thirty-Two. Please make notes on your tablets and pay attention …’

Charlotte’s father picked us up after school. Dad came for Aiden and, as arranged, handed over a small case with pyjamas and toiletries in it for me. I was excited about having a sleepover at Charlotte’s house – I mean, home was great, but occasionally I longed for something different. I wondered if that was why I’d been thinking about Xena recently.

Charlotte’s dad was small and full of nervous energy. He shook my hand as he introduced himself, but couldn’t maintain eye contact for more than a second. His gaze flitted everywhere, as if he was afraid of missing something or someone more important. His hand was slightly clammy and when he let go of mine, I wiped it on the back of my dress.

We hadn’t been driving for more than a minute when he gave Charlotte the news.

‘I’m afraid we’ll have to postpone the visit to the riding club,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Something’s come up.’

‘Oh, Dad!’ said Charlotte. ‘You promised.’