“And no carrots.”

“You need carrots to be healthy.”

“Can’t I eat an apple instead?”

“I don’t think it works like – oh, all right. No carrots.”

“You’re brilliant.”

“But you’ve got to eat some vegetables. You’ve got to eat broccoli at least once a week, all right? Finn? Are you listening?”

Finn moved closer to Ava and put his head against her shoulder. She winced and pushed his chin into a more comfortable position.

“Your chin’s bony,” she told him.

“So’s yours.”

“Yes, but I’m not digging it into you.”

“Dig it into my head. I want to see what it’s like.”

“No, it’ll hurt.”

“Please. I’ll be quiet.”

“But why – oh, all right then – ” She jabbed hard at the top of his curly head with the point of her chin. Finn jabbed her shoulder in return. They smothered their giggles in the pillow.

“I was asleep before you came in,” said Finn, when their laughter subsided.

“No you weren’t, you saw me outside.”

“No, before that. I woke up because I had the dream.”

“The dream about the beach?”

“Yes.”

“Did the wave get you?”

“It never gets me. You always come. Then I woke up and I knew you’d come and see me. You always do that too. Are you all right?” Ava swallowed hard and scrubbed at her nose with the back of her hand. “Why are you crying? Are you thinking about… ”

“No, don’t. And I’m not. I’m not crying.”

“Can’t we ever talk about it?”

“We agreed, remember?” said Ava. “It’s easier if we never do.”

“We could pretend something. We could pretend they’re on a long journey. Sailing over the ocean in a little boat.”

“Like Moominpappa?”

“Yes.”

“That woman they made us see said that’s a bad idea,” said Ava. “Making stuff up, I mean. We’re supposed to accept the reality.” Finn shrugged. “I know you don’t like her but we’ve got to look like we’re listening and paying attention or they won’t… ”

“Ever let us live by ourselves,” Finn said with her.

“I’m really sorry we ended up here.” Ava thumped Finn’s pillow into shape and lay back down. “Why do they call it a home, anyway? It’s like the opposite of a home.”

They lay quietly for a while and watched the pattern made by the headlights of passing cars moving over the ceiling. The curtains were a little too short for the high window, the fabric a little too thin to shut out the street lights outside.

“What did you have for breakfast?” asked Ava.

“Toast and cornflakes.”

“And a glass of milk?”

“No, just water.”

“You’re supposed to have milk every day,” said Ava. “It’s good for you.”

“I had milk on my cornflakes.”

“That’s not enough.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do,” said Ava.

“I don’t like milk just to drink. Anyway, you have to wait for milk. I wanted to do some more drawing.” He reached under his bed and scrabbled for a piece of paper.