‘Um… what?’ I felt a flush rise up my neck, before spotting the definite crease of a smirk hiding in the depths of his beard.

Both caterpillar eyebrows rose, clear body language for yes, I do know what you call me behind my back.

‘It probably suits me. You can stick with that.’

I cleared my throat. ‘I would really like to do you the courtesy of calling you by your actual name.’

‘Really?’ Ebenezer gave a comically slow, stiff shrug. How he managed to prune hedges and construct wooden shelters was beyond me. ‘I’ve always considered a nickname to be a gesture of affection between friends.’

He ducked his chin. ‘Ebenezer is fine.’

Then, conversation over, he closed the door.

‘I’ve been thinking – who’s going to look after Mum when you’re working and I’m at holiday club and then back at school?’ Joan asked while we were eating dinner.

Good question. We’d both witnessed Leanne’s attempt at hauling herself out of bed to shuffle to the bathroom, and it wasn’t pretty.

‘When I’m working at home, I could keep an eye on her. Either at yours, or she could come here.’

Joan pushed a piece of tortellini round for a second lap of her plate. ‘I don’t know if I’m big enough to help her up the stairs and things. What about in the mornings and the evenings?’

‘Dr Kapoor won’t let her home until she’s able to do things like that herself.’

‘But the doctor said she might never get any better!’ She looked at me, eyes wide with panic. ‘Does that mean she won’t be allowed to come home?’

‘No!’ I put down my fork. ‘She will definitely come home. There’s lots of different equipment they can give someone if they’re struggling. You can even have people whose job it is to come in every morning to help someone get up and dressed, just while they’re recovering. But I really think that in a few days your mum will be much stronger again, now she’s having all that medicine.’

‘Not if she has cancer.’

I took a deep breath. ‘Maybe not, then. Depending on where it is and what they can do to treat it.’

Joan slowly chewed another mouthful. ‘I need to find my grandparents.’

‘Oh! Wow. That’s an interesting idea.’ Or a really terrible one.

‘I don’t know anything about them, but sometimes Mum forgets she’s pretending they don’t exist and lets something slip like what they did on Christmas Day or how they sang silly songs in the car.’ She looked at me, forehead wrinkled in thought. ‘They sound like nice people. Not like the people we ran away from, Archer or the other men. I think they might really miss Mum and want to help.’