‘Teachers!’ she said as we both laughed. ‘So what you going to do after GCSEs?’

‘A levels, I guess. No idea what.’

She laid her fork down and propped her chin in her palm. She seemed almost nervous. ‘You know, you could study down here?’

With two and a half days until I was due to go home, I was already starting to feel the sadness that always came with the realization that it would be a year before I’d spend another week here. I looked about the courtyard, at the jasmine overflowing from the walls, at the wrought-iron seat that caught the morning sun. I imagined stepping out here with a mug of coffee steaming into a winter dawn, then strolling through a thick frost in the Lanes for a day at college. The guy I pictured was like me, but a little older, more polished, infinitely cooler. It was as clear a vision of my future as I’d ever had. ‘Could I really do that?’ I asked.

She appeared relieved by my enthusiasm. ‘Whyever not? You could stay here maybe. Only if you want to, of course. Totally your choice.’

‘I’d love to. You sure it’d be OK?’

She rested her hand on mine. ‘I love having you here, you know that. And I sort of feel Brighton is more your sort of place.’ I grinned at what felt like a compliment. ‘And I reckon Louis would probably give you some gigs after that performance the other night. You could earn some money as well.’

‘Dunno if Gramps would like it,’ I said.

‘He loves you, Ollie. Loving someone is about letting them go out into the world, not holding them close.’

‘You reckon he sees it that way?’

‘Sure he does.’ Her expression looked a little less than sure. ‘You could go back to him for weekends anyway.’

We mused over the details as we finished the last remnants of breakfast, and looked up a few local colleges online. I had just three more terms to see off at Five Oaks and some exams to pass. One short year of doing what I’d always done seemed just the briefest of delays. It would be easy.

And it really would have been easy. It was as I climbed into Aunty Kaye’s car that I made the decision that would change everything. I’d clunked the passenger door of her old convertible shut behind me. She’d stuck it in gear and reached for the handbrake. ‘Not wearing your hat?’ she asked.