Boys don’t do as well as girls at school, and there are good reasons for that.

Blah, blah, blah, blah.

She understands all this. She gets it. She knows she’ll have to work hard to get the grades, and she’s more than prepared to put the hours in.

But. But. There’s a new boy in her year.

And he’s not like the rest.

Sunday

SUNDAY

Chapter 14

14

The smell of fresh coffee woke me up. Sean put the cup down carefully on the bedside table beside me and I propped myself up on my elbows, mumbling a thank you without meeting his eye. How much sleep had I managed? A few hours? I felt shattered, hollowed out with fatigue, and took the coffee with me as I shuffled into the en suite.

By the time I was dressed and had made my way downstairs, Rowan had fetched Izzy from the airport and they were chatting in the air-conditioned cool of the kitchen. We hugged our hellos and I asked about the journey from Bangkok.

‘It’s so lovely to see you,’ Izzy said. ‘To see everyone again.’

‘You too,’ I said, sipping a second coffee.

It was months since I’d last seen her, but she didn’t look any different. She never seemed to age. She was dressed in a simple short-sleeved blouse and loose-fitting three-quarters from Vietnam or somewhere similar, and looked thoroughly at home in the heat. Her black hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, a green crystal on leather twine around her neck, plus her usual collection of bracelets and bangles for positive energy. She was the only one of us without kids, and single, and it seemed to me that she looked ten years younger than us as a result – no wear and tear, no stretch marks, no wrinkles and lines from all the sleepless nights. She was the smallest of the four of us, an elfin five feet two, slight and petite, and somehow that made her look younger too. Small, delicate features, cat-like eyes behind red-framed glasses and a mouth that was almost always smiling.

‘How are you, Kate?’

‘Great. Lovely.’

Izzy grinned playfully.

‘Big first night last night, was it?’

‘Not really.’

‘You look whacked, woman.’

I shook my head, smiling in spite of myself. Izzy had always been one to call a spade a spade.

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘You always know how to lift my spirits.’

‘Just saying, that’s all. Concerned for you.’

‘I do feel whacked, actually, didn’t sleep that well.’ I reached for a convincing lie – one with a kernel of truth. ‘I’m actually a bit worried about Lucy.’

In broad brushstrokes, I told the three of them how my daughter had been more withdrawn recently, her mood swings more pronounced with the pressure of looming GCSE results. And how I had failed to notice the signs until last night.

Jennifer had joined us and was nodding along in sympathy.