And then it was my time to step on to stage. I thought, It’s 7.30 pm. Sometimes when people are running late, they’re only a few minutes late. I walked onto the stage as slow as I could and then I leaned over to Ingrid, seated at the piano stool, and whispered, ‘Mum will be here in a minute. Can we wait a tick?’

She stood from the piano and started to address everyone, talking about the band excursion later in the year, and how to donate money and how important it was that students at our school develop their music education. I didn’t hear a word, I could only hear my heart beating out of my chest and I was thinking, if I just sing well enough she will walk through the door. And my people have a thing for singing. Dad would tell me about our people singing up rain, singing up lovers, singing away our enemies. And I could finally sing, I didn’t need anyone to tell me that, I knew it.

So I gulped and then nodded to Ingrid to start playing the piano and then the cello kicked in, and the violins, and I started singing like there was no tomorrow.

Time after time she told me she was just running late home from work.

Time after time she told me she was just having one more drink.

Time after time I had to see her a mess.

Time after time she told me she would never drink again.

My friends looked on at me in awe as I was nailing all the notes, remembering the words and trying to sing Mum into the room. But she wasn’t coming.

I looked at Nana, who was so ashamed, and I looked at Dad and Caitlin, who were willing me to just hold on, to just get through. I closed my eyes and kept singing.

Then the storm broke, and I trembled on the stage as the music filled the room. I heard the piano stop playing and I felt Ingrid’s arm around my shoulder. I heard her voice start to sing my lines, and then another voice, and another, and when I opened my tear-soaked eyes Caroline and Hayley and Jamie were standing next to me, singing my song.

Dad and Caitlin hugged me and told me how beautiful it all was while Ingrid told everyone that we were breaking for interval.

Nana was in tears as she said, ‘I’m so sorry that she didn’t come, Phoebe.’ I knew she was devastated.

Dad said, cool as anything, ‘It’s okay. It really was beautiful, and we were here to see it. I’m sure your mum would have been here if she could be. Today she’s not well. Are you all right, Phoebe?’