We’ve moved on to exciting facts I could add when Grandad suddenly pulls a postcard out of his pocket. ‘I got this today,’ he says, passing it over. ‘It’s from Alice. Sounds like she’s enjoying herself.’

On the front is a photo of temples rising majestically through the mist. I turn it over. All that is written on the back are the words, I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m on my way! X Alice

I stare at the words. ‘Well, she did know where she was going,’ I say. ‘She bought a plane ticket, got on a plane and flew to Myanmar.’

Grandad laughs. ‘True, but I think she’s referring to her emotional journey rather than the physical one. She’s been wanting to get back into nursing for some time. Maybe that’s what she means.’

I drop the postcard among the clutter on Mum’s bedside table. Grandad sees the look on my face. ‘What’s the matter?’

I start collecting up all my speech cards and arranging them in order. ‘Mum knew how much I wanted to go to Houston. How come we didn’t have the money for that, but she could pay the airfare to go to Myanmar?’

‘I doubt she’s got the money to pay for that either. There’ll be a big credit card bill on its way soon. Alice doesn’t always think before she acts.’

‘Well, maybe she should.’

Grandad looks up at me and frowns. ‘Don’t be like that, love. I know she’s doing her best.’

‘If she was doing her best she’d be here, right now, looking after Elsa, and I’d be at school!’

‘Meg, when Alice’s mum died, I was living –’

‘In a tree. I know, Grandad, you’ve told me loads of times.’

‘So Alice came to live with me and we hardly knew each other. I’d been abroad most of her life, popping back to see her every now and then. I did my best, but my best was rubbish.’

I shake my head. ‘You’re always making excuses for her.’

‘No,’ says Grandad. ‘I’m just telling you what happened. I’d be the biggest hypocrite in the world if I criticised her for going away for two weeks – I used to go away for months, years!’

‘Well … you’re here now,’ I say quickly, ‘and just because you weren’t around when she was little, doesn’t mean she has to do the same to us. She could try.’

‘I think she is trying.’

‘Well, maybe she needs to try harder!’

My voice comes out so loud that we both automatically look towards Elsa in her cot to check she hasn’t woken up. Grandad reaches out and pats my foot. ‘I know,’ he says. ‘And now you’re having to miss school, which you hate. Why don’t you go back in now I’m here?’

I shake my head. ‘I can’t. They think I’m having some sort of tooth operation.’

‘Well, Elsa’s asleep, so how about I take Pongo for a walk, leave you to catch up with some work?’