‘She says you look down your nose at everyone and do this all the time –’ I raise one eyebrow and attempt to do his one-sided smile. Ed bursts out laughing. ‘See?’ I say. ‘You’re doing it right now!’

‘Well, it looks like we’re both friends with someone who doesn’t know when to be quiet!’

We stare at each other across the table. Ed’s chin is slightly raised and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this arrogant. I feel so angry with him right now that I don’t think I can eat my roll.

I turn away and sip my hot chocolate even though it burns my throat. I hear Ed tear open his crisps.

Then I notice that my phone is vibrating on the table. I snatch it up and see that it’s an unknown number. Immediately I think it’s someone at the nursery. ‘I’ve got to take this,’ I mutter, pushing back my chair and walking out of the cafe.

‘Hello?’ I say as the door bangs shut behind me.

‘Meg?’ Mum’s familiar voice rings out. ‘Is that you, baby?’

THIRTY-THREE

As Mum describes the village she’s staying in, I walk away from the cafe. I take a left, then a right, then I keep on going until I’m halfway up a grassy slope.

‘The medical centre is very basic, Meg, but the people are wonderful. There are no street lights so you can see thousands of stars at night. You’d love it!’

I sit down with my back against a wall and wait for her to stop.

‘They need help so much, sweetheart. I know that I’m making a real difference …’ She pauses for a moment, then says, ‘How’s Elsa?’

‘She’s fine.’

‘What did she have for breakfast today?’ The line is starting to sound crackly. ‘Is Dad remembering to put on her eczema cream?’

I think back to this morning. ‘She had Weetabix and banana … Hang on. Elsa’s got eczema?’

‘Weetabix and what? I can’t hear you, Meg.’

‘Banana!’ I shout. ‘Banana!’

‘Did Dad warm the milk?’

I stare at the distant hills. ‘Mum, we’re not at Grandad’s. I decided to look after her at the flat. Grandad’s house is such a state and I knew I’d end up looking after him too.’

‘So, what, the two of you are on your own each night?’ For the first time, I can hear worry in her voice.

‘Yes, and we’re doing just fine.’ I stop talking. My throat hurts. I’m not sure if I can speak without crying. ‘I just thought it would be easier this way.’

‘You should be staying with Dad.’ Mum says this as though somehow this whole situation is my fault.

‘No, we shouldn’t,’ I snap back. ‘He falls asleep smoking, Mum. The other day I found his chickens in the street – he’d just gone out on his bike and left everything unlocked.’ I’ve got a hard, angry ache in my chest. ‘You should have known Elsa and I couldn’t stay with him.’