A magpie squawking in the tree high above us suddenly decides to swoop at the bread. The temptation is strong and he lands, his head tilted as his beady eyes scan around for danger. He pecks at the largest piece of bread and is soon joined by a partner. They are the tree bullies, scaring away the little grey wagtails who usually flit in and out of the olive trees.

‘One for sorrow, two for joy,’ Kellie mutters.

‘I’m surprised you know that old saying,’ I reply.

‘My nan says it all the time. I miss her. That’s Mum’s mum, of course. My other grandma is just like my dad.’

I shift position reluctantly as I don’t want to break her train of thought, but my left leg is going to sleep. She turns to look at me face on for the first time since we sat down, then she returns her gaze to the magpies. The look is one that sends a shudder through me. Isolation. Despair.

‘When it escalated and I couldn’t hide the bruises, Dad got involved. He went to the school and let rip. Sounds positive, doesn’t it? But at home he made it clear he thought it was all my own fault that I wanted to be different, because I was trying to prove something. Mum and Dad rowed about that, of course, and it became all about them and not the bullies. Then, one day, I’d had enough. I thought I had the perfect solution and I welcomed it. But I even managed to mess that up. I chose a day when Mum happened to pop home mid-morning because she’d forgotten some important papers. She’s a solicitor. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me. She spends her days dealing with broken people and realising she had a broken daughter made her feel like a failure as a mother. What a stupid, stupid mess. But Taylor knows, and I wanted you to know. It matters to me what you think.’

I feel a little overwhelmed to be taken into her confidence, but the last thing Kellie needs now is banal sympathy.

‘Your strength is amazing, Kellie. You are one strong woman who has been through hell. If you can survive that, you can survive anything. But I’m guessing the problem is where do you go from here?’

Her head tips forward and she stares at her feet, shuffling them back and forth for a few seconds.

‘You got it. I can’t stay here forever. It’s tempting though.’

For the first time, her voice sounds brighter and a huge sense of relief washes over me. I said the right thing. At the right time. I don’t care whether it’s luck, or judgement; I just care to see that smile on her face and hear the lift in her voice.