I could smell the cheese on toast even before I went into the kitchen. Sometimes it seemed like Mum never ate anything, so I assumed that I would find my brother in there, guzzling, eyes glued to his mobile phone.

‘Hello?’ Mum’s voice was bright and breezy. I wondered if there was a glass somewhere in the house with ice cubes in it.

Before I got to the kitchen door, I heard GP’s paws scratching across the floor. He barked, and as soon as I opened the door, he jumped up at me, wagging his tail. I gave him a good stroke and pat and told him how cute and lovely he was.

Tobias was anything but. He was sitting on a stool with his baseball cap on back to front, bent over his food. He was chewing with his whole face. Mum was leaning against the worktop beside him. She had a radiant smile and, yep, a glass in her hand.

‘Where have you been?’ she asked.

‘Here and there,’ I said. ‘Is there any more cheese on toast, or has that lard-arse eaten it all?’

I nodded at my brother. He raised his head and gave me an exaggerated smile, food still in his mouth.

‘God, you’re disgusting.’

‘There’s one left,’ Mum said and pointed to the stove. ‘I can make some more, if you like. Are you done, Tobias, or shall I make some more for you, too? It’s really no bother.’

My brother didn’t answer.

The cheese lay melted, thick and delicious on the toasted bread. I grabbed it and took a bite. Perfectly done, just the right amount of ketchup under the ham, and a light sprinkle of oregano on top. God, it was good to have something to eat again without feeling my insides turn over.

I chewed, observing my brother for a few moments. He was at least a head taller than Mum now. I wondered how he was getting on. If he was happy. He didn’t seem to care that his clothes were often a bit dirty and that you could smell the sweat on him from a few feet away. He lived his life online, sitting in his room all day, gaming. I knew he chatted to his friend Ruben almost every day, but I had no idea whether he had any other friends – ones he actually talked to face to face.

You should be taking care of him, I thought. You should be taking him out, introducing him to people. But it wasn’t easy. Travelling back and forth to Lillestrøm several times a week took up a lot of my time. And then there was Mari and my mates. The day only had so many hours. Still, I felt bad for him. And guilty.

My phone rang. It was Imo.

‘What’s up?’ I said.

‘Even,’ he began. There was an edge to his voice.