‘Isn’t it time you got over that?’ she says. ‘It was six months ago, and a lot has changed since then.’

I look at her. Try to keep my face neutral. Every one of her words has a weight to it. They’re so heavy with suspicion and threat that I’m surprised they don’t thud onto the table and knock over my soup. What I say next matters so much.

141 ‘I hear you, Mum, but it’s really hard. How do you get over something like that?’

She smiles at me. ‘You adapt and grow. Nobody ever made a success of their life by staying the same.’

I smile back, with as much warmth as I can. ‘You’re quite clever for an old person,’ I say, cos that’s something I call her when we’re mucking around and I’m being cheeky. ‘And I know you’re right. I’ll try harder, I promise.’

Her smile widens, and I look into her eyes, like really look, to see if I can see any of the real mum in there. If I can find her, maybe I can get her to fight the parasite that’s controlling her body. That happens in movies sometimes – the humanity wins out because love conquers all and all that shiz. We’ve all seen it. But this ain’t a movie, and all I see in my mum’s eyes is a chilling look of satisfaction that she thinks she’s won me over. So I guess we’re going to have to do this the horrifying, drawn-out way. And first things first, how the hell am I going to avoid eating this soup?

So, options are to drop it, which is blatantly obvious, to ruin it somehow, which is totally obvious, or to distract her and get rid of it, which 142 is also massively obvious. I settle for stirring it while I try to decide what to do.

‘How was your day, Mum?’ I ask, which is normal because I always ask. ‘I’m just gonna get some bread to dunk in my soup.’ I push my chair back, leave the bowl on the table, and go over to the kitchen counter.

‘Frustrating,’ she says. ‘There are so many things that need to be done, but the time’s not right.’

I bend down to get a plate out of the cupboard. ‘You mean because you’re still not feeling well enough?’

‘I feel well,’ she says, ‘but I’m limited by other things.’

‘Like what?’ I take the clip off the bread and take out four slices. ‘Anything I can help with?’

I hear her sigh behind me. ‘You can certainly help me at some point, but you’re not ready yet.’

I let out a snort of laughter as I put the clip back on the bread bag and head to the fridge. ‘You sound like my Jedi master.’