A quick kiss and a hard sniff of his minty shampoo. It will have to last Lizzie the day. As she walks out of the door, she hears the sound of paper ripping and realizes it’s her heart being torn in two, so part of it can stay with her boy. Maud licks her cheek and she squeezes the dog briefly, before she realizes what she’s done, remembers dogs’ tongues can carry Capnocytophaga, a bacteria that can cause all sorts of disease and infection. She sets Maud on the floor and the dog whimpers in the direction of the gate. ‘I know,’ Lizzie says, ‘but it’s for the best.’

She’s first in the queue at pick-up time. Maud had trotted out and stood by the door as Lizzie was preparing to leave, but Lizzie said no. This was her special time with Lenny. She sees him before he sees her: messy hair, grin splitting his face in two. Then she tracks the arm around his shoulders up to its owner. And there, smiling broadly, is Luke-from-the-Beacon. Their eyes meet briefly before Lizzie looks down and rushes over. Lenny ducks under Luke’s arm with a ‘Bye, Mr Williams. See you tomorrow,’ and races towards his mum.

‘Mum! Mum! I’m on a football team already! They’re reading Goodnight Mister Tom in class, but I’ve read it already, so I’m reading another book of hers called Back Home and—’ The rest of his sentence is lost inside Lizzie’s cardigan as she wraps him in her arms, then fits her palm around his bony shoulder and steers him out of the playground.

Lenny waffles on about his day and how much fun he’s had as they walk home. He’s all ‘Mr Williams this’ and ‘Mr Williams that’ and each time he says the name Lizzie flinches slightly and doesn’t know why.

She picks up Lenny’s star-shaped hand. ‘It sounds great, your teacher too.’ The thought of Lenny being happy without her hurts, like a stitch. She plasters over the wince of pain with a smile. She can’t be his only happiness. She knows this, but it still stings.

Back at the shelter Lenny undresses and folds his uniform ready for the next day. There is already a scuff in the knee of his too-long trousers and a button missing from his coat. ‘Sorry, Mum, I scored a goal, though!’

Lizzie grins. ‘Don’t worry about it. Nothing a needle and thread can’t fix. Did you know there’s a story that buttons on shirts were invented by Napoleon? He was sick of seeing his soldiers wipe their noses on their sleeves.’

‘A button won’t stop me,’ Lenny says, with pride, and Lizzie laughs.

‘Come on, Tess is calling us.’