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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

‘No, I get it. When my dad left I didn’t talk to anyone for months. But you’re still here, Josh. In the world. Friday night, you were really funny. Talking about all the stuff you used to do together, what he used to say. What was it you were saying about ‘listen for the moment just before the song starts’? ‘Try to hear the moment of expectation’! That’s it! Had me in stitches about four songs in a row! You remember that? We were listening so hard for it, and every time, ‘nothing’. Remember?’ Dana’s impression of my voice, saying those words, is like pins in my gut. ‘And you were so good at looking angry when the song started again. Remember you made that girl – Molly, was it? – start the same song about three times in a row. You were so funny! Don’t you remember that?’

I don’t remember. Not a single word or note. I’d been talking about Dad. At the party. And laughing. A wave of nausea hits me like a wall. It’s like Saturday morning all over again.

Dana continues, ‘I wondered whether that was the real you and this,’ she indicates me with a general sweep of her arm, ‘this is some kind of show? A sort of performance?’

When I speak, it’s louder than I mean it to be. ‘So your dad was killed too, was he? Blown up? Is that what you’re saying? That you coped with it and I should act more like you?’

‘No! No no no! My dad’s not dead, for one thing. Mum thinks he might as well be, but he isn’t. What I meant was … you were so happy talking about him I was almost convinced that … I’m not explaining myself very well, am I? Hey, let me show you something.’

She grabs my hand and starts off again at a rapid pace. We walk – almost running – to the end of the road, then turn along the front of the building site, then onto the main road where she stops in front of a hedge. One nettle dangles across the path like some kind of arrow.

‘In here,’ she says, and pulls me through the undergrowth. As we stumble through the greenery, I begin to feel oddly light, being led back to this place. How would she know?

Seconds later, we emerge from under the hedge, through the old wooden door which someone has put back in its place, and into the walled, square patch of garden.

We stand for a few moments, Dana still holding on to my hand, breathing heavily, looking at me.

‘What do you think?’

SIXTEEN

SIXTEEN