It’s not just my granddad’s car that is pink; lots of other things in his house are pink too. All the walls are pink, and the bathroom carpet is as bright as a flamingo. The cake mixer is light pink, so is the toilet roll and so is the flowery duvet on their bed. Mum says it’s like Grandma has gone but there are still pieces of her everywhere; even her pink raincoat hangs on the coat hook next to Granddad’s hat. The only room that isn’t pink is the sitting room, where the curtains are always pulled over, making it as dark as a cinema. Mum is always asking Granddad to open them – wouldn’t he be happier if he let the light in? But Granddad just barks that he prefers them closed. So that’s where me and Granddad sit and eat our tea every evening, in the dark, while he watches the German news on TV.

‘Do you want more bread?’ he asks.

‘No thank you,’ I reply.

‘But I am thinking you must eat something.’

‘I’m full up, Granddad,’ I say.

‘Just another sausage.’

I sigh as Granddad slides another sausage onto my plate. Grandma used to bake fruit cake and cook shepherd’s pie and fry the best chips ever. Now all Granddad seems to eat is tinned sausages and tinned beans and packets of ham and bread from Lidl and Tesco.

I don’t like sausages, but luckily Samson, Granddad’s ginger cat, loves them. I squeak him over, listen for the clink of Granddad washing the plates in the sink, then I break the sausage into three pieces and feed it to Samson, who gobbles it up.

‘Have you homework?’

I jump as Granddad walks back in.

‘Yes, Granddad,’ I say, trying not to look guilty.

‘Then I am thinking you should get on with it.’ He nods at my bag beside me on the table.

I sigh. I wish I’d tried harder and stayed at school. All my work would be done and I could be watching TV or talking to Mum and Dad – if they were in. They’ve been working stacks since Dad’s plumbing business went bust last year. Mum says we need the money, and I know we do, but I’d like to see them too.

I slide the bag towards me and get my books out.

‘Did you want more light?’ asks Granddad.

‘No, I’m okay,’ I lie.