‘How am I ever going to be able to buy myself new stuff like clothes? Or food, for that matter? My dad always did all that.’ My throat feels tight, almost as if I can’t breathe. ‘I don’t have any money.’

‘Don’t worry. Your – erm – your mum, Karen, told me she can’t wait to go shopping with you, make up for lost time. I don’t think you’ll want for anything. Or,’ she adds hurriedly, ‘if you decide not to go down that route, there are various benefits that you or whoever cares for you will be eligible for.’ She squeezes my arm. ‘Don’t worry.’

I nod, tears rising in my eyes but I force them back. My mum, Ellie said. I’ve never had a mum. The woman who came to see me in the hospital was a stranger, and it’s hard to imagine her being anything else. But I don’t want to think about that now. ‘Can I go in Dad’s room?’ I ask.

Ellie nods and I push open the door. My breath catches in my throat. The bed is unmade and some of his clothes are draped over the back of a rickety old chair. It’s almost as if he’s simply gone out somewhere and will be back any minute. It still smells of him.

I lurch backwards, suddenly feeling sick. ‘I’d like to go now,’ I say, pushing past her and running down the stairs. Once outside I take a big, deep breath and the nausea starts to subside.

‘You OK?’ Ellie asks as she catches up with me. ‘Did your dad’s room make you remember something?’

I shake my head. ‘No. Nothing specific. I just miss my dad.’

Dad’s funeral is horrific. Attended only by me, Ellie and PC Oaks. A minister mumbles some generic pleasantries about a man he never met and then I watch as a velvet curtain slides slowly around the cheap wooden casket and I hear the conveyor belt take Dad to the incinerator.

For all I know, I’m the only person who will remember him, who will care that he ever lived.

I am numb. I don’t even cry.

21

August 2013

Catford

‘This is it,’ Ellie says, pulling up outside a house on a street in a part of London I’d never heard of: Catford. The houses are all small and squashed together and a helicopter is hovering overhead. ‘Your new home.’ She pauses and then adds hurriedly, ‘As long as it all works out for all of you, of course. I will be keeping in close contact to check that everyone’s happy and that there are no problems. Ready?’