Maggie had put my school uniform on a coat hanger after she’d ironed it late last night and it was hanging on the front of a large dark wood wardrobe. My uniform hadn’t been ironed for months. I didn’t want to go to school. I wanted to curl up and go back to sleep and stop thinking about Dad. I knew the change had been gradual but I guess I’d ignored it. It was like I only saw it for the first time last night and it had been like watching a stranger. I could see it play out in my mind and feel the helpless grip of fear when I thought he was dead, and the flash of fury when he was going to hurt Maggie.

‘Tom?’ There was a light tap on the door. ‘Do you want your breakfast before or after you’ve had a shower?’

I gulped at how kind Maggie was. I didn’t like to think about what I would have done without her last night.

‘Tom? Are you okay?’

‘Yeah. Just waking up. I’ll shower first if that’s okay?’

‘Of course. Breakfast in twenty minutes. It’s eggs and toast. Do you want fried, scrambled or poached?’

Having the conversation with her through the door made me smile despite everything. ‘Scrambled please.’

‘Right you are,’ she said and I heard the creak of the stairs as she went back down. I stared at my uniform for a moment. The bit of yesterday with Farah had been sandwiched between my dad’s outbursts and it had been great. Like the best home-made jam in a mouldy bread sandwich. A deep sigh escaped. Farah would be expecting me to be at school. I reached into my bag at the side of the bed and pulled out the revision cards she’d done for me. Her neat writing smiled back at me. I needed to have a shower and get ready.

Maggie’s timing was perfect. As I walked into the kitchen she put a plate down on the table. Two slices of buttered toast with a mound of fluffy scrambled eggs on top. I was suddenly hungry. ‘Thanks.’

‘My pleasure. I’ve been thinking about getting you to school…’ An image of me on the back of the quad bike shot into my mind. ‘I’ve looked on the bus timetable,’ she said and I was relieved, ‘and as long as the buggers haven’t changed it, the number nineteen bus should drop you quite close to your school. It leaves in…’ She checked the kitchen clock and then her watch. ‘Twenty minutes.’

‘Okay.’ I knew some people who got that bus.

She joined me at the table with a smaller version of my breakfast and a large mug of tea. ‘Lambs were a bit lively this morning,’ she said.

‘How many now?’

‘Six and there won’t be any more. Colin’s useless.’