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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

We look at some of my old birthday pictures from when I was a toddler. I can just about recognise myself in the bright-eyed, blond child staring out from the cellophane wallet the picture is held in. There are other children around me, few of whom I recognise, most of whom I haven’t seen since. Not long after my fifth birthday, we moved away from Nanna and Grandad’s town to where we live now.

There are pictures of steam trains, and me looking proud on the platform. Pictures of walks on the beach at what seem ridiculous times of year to visit the seaside, especially considering how far away it is. Pictures of me and Mum and Nanna and Grandad on a big, fallen tree in the middle of a field somewhere. And lots of lots of pictures of Dad. His arm over my shoulder as I’m painting, me sitting on his lap as he talks to someone out of shot, him and Mum in the background, cuddling, as I’m racing Grandad across a park.

And then there are the blank spaces, at the back. ‘This one’s for your sixteenth birthday, if you’ll let us come,’ says Nanna with a nudge. ‘And this for your first driving lesson, first trip to the pub, first girlfriend…’ After the laughing stops, we put the album away. There’s a show on TV about celebrities that Nanna always insists on watching.

That night, in the bed that Mum used to sleep in, I dream once more of Dad’s tree. It’s on its own in a big field, and there are very small people climbing it. They all get to a certain point, then jump off and start climbing from the bottom again. The more I watch, the more it looks like a trail of ants going up and up the tree. I panic and start to brush them away with my hand, but then they’re all climbing on me, jumping off my arms and starting again at my legs. And then I don’t have legs anymore, but a trunk, and branches for arms, and I can’t stop the tiny ant people as they climb and jump, climb and jump, climb and jump.

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY SIX

We’re halfway up the hill behind Nanna and Grandad’s house, squelching through mud and hunched against the wind that, thankfully, isn’t full of rain this morning. I’ve borrowed a pair of Grandad’s wellies; the fact that they almost fit me drew more squeals from Nanna about how much I’d grown. Further ahead, Mum’s talking with Nanna, their arms linked as they negotiate the bigger puddles. Grandad and I are a little slower. My feet aren’t quite as sure as I’d like in these big boots that knock against my knees, and he keeps stopping and poking the undergrowth with a stick.