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Chapters (75)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. About the Author
  4. Title Page
  5. Intoroduction
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. FIVE
  11. SIX
  12. SEVEN
  13. EITHT
  14. NINE
  15. TEN
  16. ELEVEN
  17. TWELVE
  18. THIRTEEN
  19. FOURTEEN
  20. FIFTEEN
  21. SIXTEEN
  22. SEVENTEEN
  23. EIGHTEEN
  24. NINETEEN
  25. TWENTY
  26. TWENTY-ONE
  27. TWENTY-TWO
  28. TWENTY-THREE
  29. TWENTY-FOUR
  30. TWENTY-FIVE
  31. TWENTY-SIX
  32. TWENTY-SEVEN
  33. TWENTY-EIGHT
  34. TWENTY-NINE
  35. THIRTY
  36. THIRTY-ONE
  37. THIRTY-TWO
  38. THIRTY-THREE
  39. THIRTY-FOUR
  40. THIRTY-FIVE
  41. THIRTY-SIX
  42. THIRTY-SEVEN
  43. THIRTY-EIGHT
  44. THIRTY-NINE
  45. FORTY
  46. FORTY-ONE
  47. FORTY-TWO
  48. FORTY-THREE
  49. FORTY-FOUR
  50. FORTY-FIVE
  51. FORTY-SIX
  52. FORTY-SEVEN
  53. FORTY-EIGHT
  54. FORTY-NINE
  55. FIFTY
  56. FIFTY-ONE
  57. FIFTY-TWO
  58. FIFTY-THREE
  59. FIFTY-FOUR
  60. FIFTY-FIVE
  61. FIFTY-SIX
  62. FIFTY-SEVEN
  63. FIFTY-EIGHT
  64. FIFTY-NINE
  65. SIXTY
  66. SIXTY-ONE
  67. SIXTY-TWO
  68. SIXTY-THREE
  69. SIXTY-FOUR
  70. SIXTY-FIVE
  71. SIXTY-SIX
  72. SIXTY-SEVEN
  73. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  74. CLIMATE EMERGENCY
  75. Copyright

That evening, we put the fire on, order take away and wrap ourselves in blankets in front of the TV, trying to make the world no bigger than our living room. We flick between re-runs of old TV shows and a couple of films to avoid the advert breaks. At one point, the old show that Mum and I used to watch together is on, and we switch across just in time to hear ‘it is what it is.’ I look at Mum, she looks at me, and despite the day it’s been and all it’s held, we start laughing.

‘What’s funny?’ Dana smiles.

‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘I’ll explain another time.’

There’s warmth in this little nest we’ve created – our own, unbreachable corner of the universe – that I know won’t last. Can’t last. We’re all nervous; we laugh too loudly, or jump on the back of each other’s comments too quickly. We’re trying to pretend we’re not, but we are. Even so, I feel a lightness this evening that I haven’t felt for years. Or maybe I’ve never felt it, not even before Dad died. The only way I can describe it is that it’s like after you’ve been swimming in a cold sea on a hot day; as if your skin has been scrubbed clean, or has re-grown, brand new. And in that moment when the sun hits your skin and you can feel your body just drinking the warmth in, and as your foot hovers above the dry sand at the tideline, and you know you’re about to get its grains all over your foot and your legs and everywhere else, you feel a moment of being … I don’t know … clean, maybe. Perfectly clean.

*

‘Right kids, I’ll leave you to it,’ says Mum at about half past nine, reluctantly unwrapping herself from the blankets and picking up the tottering pile of plates and foil cartons. ‘Goodnight.’

‘’Night,’ we reply.

We listen as she bustles around in the kitchen, and to her footfall on the stairs.

‘So you are my girlfriend, then?’

‘If you like. You don’t have to ask me or anything. People don’t really do that anymore.’

‘No.’ I’m trying to sound informed, well-versed in the ways of the modern relationship.

‘Are you going to kiss me then?’

And I do. I lean over and I do. Her lips taste sweet, somehow metallic and a little sharp. It’s like putting a battery on your tongue. We do it again and again.

SIXTY-SIX

SIXTY SIX