‘Look who’s talking,’ Lena and Will said back.

Later, after Will had helped Aunty Nic to bed and was waiting for her to swallow her pills, Lena came into the room, hovered near the door. ‘Listen, Nic, I need to tell you . . I’m sorry. It was stupid of me to just get rid of everything. I really did want to help, but …’ The tears started flowing before she’d finished speaking. It was the worst thing of all, seeing his sister cry. It had been what broke him at Dad’s funeral, Lena sobbing into Mum’s shoulder. He’d cried until he couldn’t see then.

‘Forget that for the minute,’ Aunty Nic said, placing the water glass on the bedside table, patting the bed. ‘Tell me, for real, how are you?’

Lena on the furthest edge of the bed, as stiff and straight as a ballerina. Will ached to reach out and pull her close, stroke her sweaty hair. It wasn’t his place, though. This was between her and Aunty Nic. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to leave them to it.

‘I feel,’ Lena said, voice so soft he had to hold his breath to hear, ‘like everything is ruined.’

‘Nothing is ruined.’ Aunty Nic’s voice was stronger than he’d heard it since he’d arrived.

‘I am.’

‘I know it feels like that, but it’s not true. Some rich little turd has done a shitty, shitty thing and it’s knocked the wind from you. Of course it has. It’d do the same to anyone. But you’ll get your breath back. It’ll be okay.’

‘If Mum finds out, she won’t cope. She won’t.’

‘You don’t give her near enough credit if you think that. It’s your decision to tell her or not, but you two know better than anyone that your mother’s a strong woman who loves you both to the moon and back. There’s nothing either of you could do that’d change that.’

It was the kind of thing an aunty was meant to say, Will knew, but he also knew it was true. Mum was gutted when he was sent to jail, but she never once made him feel like it was the end of anything, least of all their relationship. She called every single day. Wrote almost as often.