‘I don’t know. Maybe we should run away to Paris.’ It sounds flippant, but Dan means it. He’s been thinking about it. They could open an antiques shop. Spend the weekends driving to remote villages and the weekdays polishing chandeliers. ‘Imagine it. Imagine how great it would be.’

‘Daniel. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, but this would come with us and I couldn’t bear it. You can be an iron man, but apparently you can’t be a gay man.’

Dan gazes at Atticus and he sees lines on his face that weren’t there before. His pale skin is stretched over his cheekbones. Is Atticus getting thinner? ‘Are you losing weight?’

‘Don’t turn this back on me.’

‘I’m not. I’m, just, God … I’ve no idea what I’m doing, Atticus. You’re like the Fibonacci sequence. I’m constantly trying to work out your patterns. What you’ll do next. I—’

Dan doesn’t have any more words, so he kisses Atticus instead. It’s desperate and fumbling and Atticus pulls away too soon.

‘Don’t distract me. Don’t take me up there, because afterwards we’ll just come crashing back down to earth.’

‘I don’t know what else to do.’

‘Me neither.’ Atticus reaches up and strokes Dan’s cheek. A tear Dan didn’t know he was crying sits on Atticus’s thumb. ‘My poor velveteen rabbit,’ he says softly. ‘If I love you enough, can I make you real?’

Lizzie

(I’ve got your number)

LIZZIE WALKS BACK FROM another school drop-off, another trek across the Beacon, where the windmill seems to have started following her. She swears it’s getting closer, a black shadow behind her. Maud hasn’t noticed. She does her normal routine, stopping to pee in the same places, barking at Lizzie now and again as if she wants to show her something, but there’s never anything there.

Lizzie hangs up her coat, nods hello to Frankie and Sarah. ‘Want a cup of tea?’ Lizzie offers.

‘No, thanks,’ Sarah says. ‘We’ve just had one. Kettle should still be warm.’ She’s frowning at a form in front of her. ‘I’m applying to college – at least, I’m trying to,’ she says. ‘I’m rubbish at forms, though.’

‘I’m good at them,’ Lizzie says, then adds, ‘I can help you, if you like. Later.’

‘That would be great. I’ll do your dinner duty in return?’

Sarah does something lovely with carrots and her mashed potato is always smooth.

‘Deal,’ Lizzie says, and they both smile.