Marty blanched. That was never going to happen.

“Er, well. I don’t know if she’ll be coming.”

Miss James raised her eyebrow.

“She works a lot.”

“But surely she’s interested in how your academic life is going?”

“Sure, it’s just … she’s busy, that’s all.”

Miss James watched him coolly.

“Well, I’ll add her to the list, and I’m sure that she’ll make a great effort to come and see me.”

Marty swallowed hard.

“What if she doesn’t?” he asked without trying to sound cocky.

“Well, then, maybe I’ll make an appointment with her at your home?”

Marty nodded.

“You can go…”

Marty had actually been looking forward to today, until he was cornered by Miss James. He’d gotten up early and cleaned a bit around the back door of the house. He’d soaked some mugs in bleach solution too so they were sparkling ready for when Gracie and he had juice. Gracie was waiting for him by the bike rack. Today was the day she was coming round to Marty’s. It was the first time he’d ever had someone home, and he’d really been looking forward to it. He’d been telling her a few things about Mum recently. Not the really big stuff. Just about how she wouldn’t leave the house and things. Marty pushed his bike as Gracie walked, well, danced beside him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in the end.

Marty shrugged.

“They want to see Mum on parents’ evening…”

Gracie took this in, and started walking normally. Marty could tell she was deep in thought.

“Well, maybe she’ll go?”

Marty had thought about this too. About how much better she was. How she was walking to the washing line and back. How she was still keeping on top of the mess.

“Maybe you should just ask her?”

And perhaps Gracie was right. Maybe she’d do it for him. She had promised. Promised to make an effort, and she was. Marty felt a little better for having told Gracie, and they kept walking in silence for a while.

“I filled in my application form…,” she said at last. “For the competition. I sent it in the post this morning…”

“That’s great!” said Marty, genuinely pleased.

“You … you do realize that I’d have to change schools if I get in?”

Marty stopped in his tracks.

“Why?”

“They’d want me to train every night. I wouldn’t be able to get back here every day.”

Marty gripped the handlebars of the BMX a bit tighter.

“But I’d be home every weekend.”