“Sorry to bother you at work, Mr Emory.” The school nurse’s mouth was tight and disapproving.

“Donald, please. And it’s no problem.” Every time they met he tried to build a rapport with her, but it was hard; his face and his job worked against him.

“She was fine all day,” the nurse said. “And then at about two o’clock, it was all just a bit too much, wasn’t it pet?” She stroked Alicia’s hair, encountered Donald’s hand doing the same thing and flinched away.

“What lesson were you in?”

“Science.” The word came out indistinctly from beneath his chin. He pushed her gently away so he could look into her face.

“What sort of science?”

“Just – just science,” hiccuped Alicia. Her eyes were huge and pleading.

“Come on, pet, you must know what sort of science.”

“I don’t,” she insisted, through sobs. She was trying to hide in his shirt front again, but he held her away, determined to get to the bottom of it.

“What was it that upset you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters! Of course it matters,” he repeated, trying to soften his tone, knowing he sounded angry. He was angry, that was the trouble. Not with Alicia, but with whoever it was who had done something, said something, to remind Alicia of what she’d lost. He wanted to fight them. He wanted to beat them into submission.

“We were talking about how plants grow,” said Alicia.

This stumped him. “How did talking about how plants grow upset you?”

“It just… ” Her nose was running. The nurse stepped in with a tissue. By the way she carefully didn’t look at him, he knew she thought he was handling this all wrong. Alicia’s face was crumpling again, grief welling up in her chest. “It just did!” The staff room door opened and an irritated face looked out. Donald put his arms around Alicia and held her, rough and tight.

“It’s hockey club tonight,” he said. “You can’t play in this state, though, can you?” He stroked her hair again. It felt rough. Had he remembered to brush it? Ellen, brushing and brushing and brushing, and Alicia twisting and complaining beneath her touch, Mum, you’re hurting, stop it, it’s finished, it looks fine. “Get yourself calmed down, then you can go and get your kit on. I’ll come and get you at five.”

“She might be better off at home for today,” said the nurse, in a tone that was clearly an instruction.

“Alicia? Pet? Is that what you want?”

As he looked into her face, he saw something terrible. She wasn’t trying to decide what she wanted. She was trying to work out what he wanted her to say.

“Come on,” he said, hauling her to her feet.

“Where are we going?”

“We,” he said, “are going to blow this joint and go and find some fun. Have you got your stuff?”

“It’s on my peg, but what about hockey club?”

“You worry about the fighters, I’ll worry about the tower.”