Marty’s stomach was tight and hard as he pushed open the back door. He’d been playing different scenarios in his head all the way home. In one, he’d come home and Mum would be crying in her chair. Letters on the floor all around her, stamped with words like BAILIFF and NOT ENOUGH PROGRESS and things like that. In another, she’d be bouncing up and down, happy as a lark, telling him that they were going to be all right. He braced himself and pushed his way in.

He hadn’t actually prepared for this one. Mum was sitting in her chair, yes, but she wasn’t laughing or crying. She just looked really serious. Marty dropped his bag, walked toward her. She lifted her head to look at him.

“So?” he asked. She’d made an effort with her clothes. She’d tied her hair back.

“They’re letting us stay here.”

Marty let out a deep breath of relief. He laughed before studying her. Her stillness was making him nervous.

“But that’s good … that’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yes…” Her eyes were darting all over the place. “Marty, sit down…”

These were never good words. Not when your friend said them or your mum or a teacher. You kind of knew something serious was coming. Marty sat on the floor by her chair.

“I’ve been thinking, about what I’ve put you through…” Marty looked at the floor.

“About how you’ve had to live here, like this, with me…”

Marty hated talking about this stuff. He swallowed hard, his head feeling light and his thoughts sliding everywhere.

“It’s okay, Mum…”

“No, it’s not…” She looked at him, her eyes swelling with tears. “I’ve been sitting here feeling ashamed of myself…”

“Please, don’t…”

“And I want to make you a promise…”

Marty hated these words.

“Once and for all, this has been the push that I’ve needed…”

“Don’t, Mum…”

“I promise you … Marty, look at me … I promise you that I will sort this out once and for all … we’ll have a nice … normal house. You’ll have a nice normal mum…”

All the words Marty wanted to say just got jammed in his throat, so many wanting to come out at the same time that they kind of all got stuck, so he said nothing at all. He nodded, tears prickling his eyes.

“Now,” she said, getting up, “let me get us some dinner.”

SEVEN

“I’M SORRY, OKAY?”

Gracie came to sit next to him on the wall. Marty could see from her face that she meant it. He’d come to the back of the languages block, and he ignored her as she sat down, hugging her schoolbag in her lap. They sat in silence for a moment. She was looking straight ahead.

“I know I can be a bit…,” she hesitated, “you know. Harsh.”

Marty gave a soft smile.