‘Look, we all know,’ Kirsty said. ‘It’s not like it’s a secret. And Bex is one of us now.’

Was Kirsty being nice now because she’d pushed Bex?

‘Kirsty’s right,’ Bex said. ‘I can’t go home like this.’

Daniel’s shoulders dropped. ‘Okay. You’d best come to mine.’

As he led them away over the remains of the old house, Bex couldn’t help feeling guilty. It was clear Daniel didn’t want them at his house.

They trudged out of the reservoir and set off in the direction of Gritton village. Daniel was silent as they walked, and the others picked up on his mood – except Kirsty, who kept up a stream of chatter about having a barbecue in the woods.

Bex was walking slowly because of her blister, and this time Kirsty stayed back with her. Of course she hadn’t pushed Bex. It was Bex being paranoid again. She had to give Kirsty a chance and try to talk properly to her, otherwise it would have been pointless coming to Gritton and making herself stay for a month. She wanted a proper sister. One she could confide in. Maybe she needed to talk about more personal things, to try and reduce the distance between them. To start feeling like she belonged in the family.

‘Did you know our mum hit Gary?’ Bex said. ‘Daniel told me.’ And she immediately knew it had been the wrong thing to say. This wasn’t the way to get close to Kirsty, who was already stiffening, her stride becoming less fluid.

‘You shouldn’t believe everything Daniel says.’ Kirsty’s tone was measured.

‘I don’t,’ Bex said, backtracking. ‘Does he not tell the truth?’ It was easier to talk about Daniel than their mother.

Kirsty sighed. ‘It’s not that. He’s just a bit weird. His mum’s an alcoholic. But anyway, this time he was right. Mum did hit Gary, who no doubt deserved it. And now Gary hates all foreigners, which is stupid.’

‘Daniel said everyone in the village turned on Mum and virtually drove her out. Is that right? Do you remember?’

‘I don’t remember much. But I wouldn’t be surprised. I don’t know why Dad ever thought someone from the Ukraine would fit in here.’

‘Sometimes I hate her.’ That had just popped out. Bex wasn’t sure she even meant it.

Kirsty turned and looked at her. Their eyes met. Such dazzling blue eyes Kirsty had.

‘For leaving us?’ Kirsty said, and her tone was gentle, reassuring Bex that she was on her side after all.

‘Yes. What kind of a woman leaves her own children?’ And Bex knew she’d gone too far. Because they both knew why she’d left. Bex was desperate for Kirsty to tell her it hadn’t been her fault, that her mum had left for other reasons.