Chapters (60)

I ease the key round in the lock, lean my shoulder into the door and noiselessly yank it clear of its frame. The mat bows under its sodden weight as I step outside, the dewy front lawn freezing beneath my bare feet. I angle it to dry in the low sun. Only a little of the solvent has spilled over on to the carpet, nothing a sheet of kitchen towel won’t soak up. This brings me an odd sense of relief. The first time there’d been a lot more of the stuff. And the carpet was only laid a few months back. It’s a brown-and-white swirly affair, like it was inspired by the icing on a vanilla slice. ‘Won’t show the dirt,’ Gramps had enthused as he thumbed a musty book of samples the guy in the shop had taken ages to find.

I cried myself dry that first time – not out of fear, but out of concern for Gramps’s new carpet. Why the hell was that the most upsetting thing? I fight an aching in my throat even now, as I massage at the pile, absorbing every last trace of lighter fluid.

The silent clean-up complete, I sit on the bottom stair with the unburnt match in my palm. An idea comes to me. It’s perfect.

‘Have it your way then,’ I mouth, slipping it into my pocket. There’s only one thing to be done with this little match. It’s unnecessary, but I’ll do it anyway. Because then I can tell Sophia that I did. She’ll love it. And what matters more than that?

THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

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THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

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