Jago?

I knelt down next to him and put my hand on his knee.

Jago? Can you hear me? It’s like rats gnawing my belly up.

Maybe it was because I used Dad’s words – what he used to say to us when we were starving hungry – because Jago seemed to click back on. He turned to look at me and I could see his brain whirring behind his eyes. Then he gave a purposeful nod and stood. I sat on the floor, stomach rumbling, and watched him silently walk to the cupboard and get out a pan. Then he took a wooden spoon from the drawer and three eggs from the rack, and set about scrambling them, cracking each into a mug and whisking them with the fork. After he’d heated the eggs on the gas he tipped them onto a slice of toast on a plate and put the plate on the table with a fork beside it. Then he walked back to me, reached for my hand and led me to the table. I stared at the eggs. Two tiny bits of shell decorated the top.

He noticed me looking and picked them out with his fingers.

Eat up, Tam.

The eggs weren’t bad, but I couldn’t take more than a mouthful. I think my tummy was hurting because of crying not hunger, because the food was too hard to swallow and got stuck in my throat like lumps of rock. Jago squeezed my hand and we both sat and stared at the cold egg.

I’m the dad now, aren’t I?

His whispered voice had cracked the silence in two.

I often look back and wish I’d told him, No, of course not, you’re a child who’s lost his father. But I didn’t. I was frightened and sad and missed my dad so much I could hardly breathe. Right at that moment, having Jago as my dad was a better prospect than having no dad at all. So I looked at him and nodded solemnly.

Yes, you are. You’re the dad now.

Jago and I heard the front door open then close, and then Mum call up to tell us she was home.

‘Right, I’ll see you later, half-pint. If she asks just say I’m doing a shift at the yard, okay?’ He grabbed his jacket and pouch of tobacco from the chest of drawers.

‘When are you going to tell her?’

‘Tell her what?’

‘That you don’t actually have a job at the yard.’

He stopped dead, defences up as if I’d flicked a switch. He glared at me. ‘You serious?’

‘You shouldn’t lie to her.’

‘I’m not lying to her.’

I raised my eyebrows.

‘I’m giving her money, aren’t I? She doesn’t need to know where it comes from.’

I didn’t reply, hoping my silence would convey my disapproval.

‘Jesus, Tam. What? You’re the honesty police all of a sudden?’ He gave me a look. ‘I know you lie too, so don’t get all high and mighty.’