He never stops for an answer, but you can tell he’s excited. There’s not much that doesn’t excite him, to be honest. He’s like the Energizer Bunny on steroids.

Mum gives Jay a look, and he says, “Be careful, Aaron,” because she’s still not comfortable telling her stepson off.

Now that she’s won him over, she doesn’t want to upset him. Unfortunately, not upsetting Nia is an impossible challenge. Aaron’s presence certainly helps, but, whenever he leaves the room, her face falls a tiny bit more.

I check my phone, half-expecting a message from Amy saying they’ve canceled. She was wary when I invited her. She looked nervous, as if it was a trap. After I snuck into Will’s room and then accused her of writing that warning on the car, I don’t blame her.

“This is going to be fucking horrible,” Nia mumbles.

“Just ask lots of questions. The more they say, the likelier they are to slip up.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Maybe. But imagine if I’m right. I’ll be saying I told you so for years.”

Nia looks at me and smiles. “You’re an oddball, you know that?”

“I do.”

Aaron bursts in from nowhere and jumps on his sister. I can see that, for the briefest moment, she wants to moan at him. The words “Get off” rest on her lips before she pushes them together and they crumble.

“Are you ready to be charming?” she asks, tickling him until his giggles fill the room.

When he’s got his breath back, he says, “I’m always charming.”

We don’t notice Mum and Jay in the doorway until the doorbell rings, and Jay says, “Right, troops. Let’s do this.”

67

We always eat at the table, but never like this.

When we first moved in with Jay, Mum made a point of doing things differently. We’d gotten used to eating on trays, first in bedrooms, and then, when it was just the two of us, in front of the TV.

But Mum wanted to do things “properly” now. She wanted dinner to be an event, not something to do in secret or in silence. She liked asking people to pass her things, even when she could reach them.

This is that turned up to eleven, because the table looks like it’s been set for Christmas, with the special-occasion plates and three sets of cutlery. There are tall glasses for wine and small glasses for water and not enough space for all the food.

“Does it look okay?” Mum whispers, and I nod.

Even with Jay to calm her nerves, she still turns to me, sometimes, and I love that. We’re a team. We always have been.

“This looks wonderful,” Jane says, and, when she coughs, Chris hurries to agree.

Friendliness doesn’t suit him. He looks like he’s trying on smiles when he’s shopping for scowls.