Dad crossed the room in a beat and put his arm around my neck, pulling me in. He kissed the top of my head. When he pulled away I thought his eyes were watery, but he blinked and it was gone.

He stepped back into the hall and jumped.

“Sorry, Ruby. I didn’t see you there.”

I heard Ruby tell him it was OK and did he know where she could find a dustpan. Something about the high pitch of her voice made me wonder what she’d overheard. My heart started that uncomfortable palpitating. It was like I was in a room that kept getting smaller and smaller. That nightmare from childhood that you’re going to be crushed by the walls.

For the rest of the day I tried to tell if she knew something from the way she looked at me or the things she said, but she acted normal, kissing me on the cheek as she walked past with a box of mugs, interrupting me sweeping the almost empty kitchen to show me a picture of Noah and her parents eating cheeseburgers the size of your face. The room eased up. A little more oxygen circulated around me. She must not have heard anything.

By the time Dad and Beth got into the van to take the last trip over to the flat, it was around nine p.m. and it was starting to get dark. My muscles already ached in anticipation of tomorrow and the thought of unpacking everything again made me want to cry.

Dad called me over to the van and rolled down the window. He dangled a set of keys at me.

“Can you lock up and follow us over?”

I looked at the keys and looked at Ruby. The last time we’d taken the car we had nearly driven into someone and then stranded ourselves. Although the bit in between had been good.

We watched Dad and Beth drive off and Ruby put her arm around my waist and leaned her head on my shoulder.

“Let’s not go straight over.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Let’s not go anywhere just yet,” she said, and she pulled me back into the house, her hand in mine as she led me to the couch.

27.