I had a key and I let myself in. I clicked Maggie’s front door shut behind me. Something was cooking and it smelled good. I left my bag by the door, kicked off my shoes and went into the living room. Maggie wasn’t there but I sat on the rug and crossed my legs anyway.

‘Tom!’ she called from the back of the house. I heard her footsteps approach. ‘You’re late. Is everything…’ She didn’t finish the sentence. I think she knew. Maggie came and joined me on the rug and started going through a few exercises. She spoke in that gentle lulling voice she always used for yoga. I tried to focus on her voice. I wanted to rub away the pain that was gnawing at my insides. I hated Dad for everything. He’d ruined it all and yet I felt like the worst person for telling him.

Maggie stopped speaking. I opened my eyes. Everything was blurring because of the tears. I couldn’t stop them. Maggie was kneeling in front of me with her arms open wide. It wasn’t a yoga position I recognised. I frowned at her.

‘There’s a hug here if you need it.’

I didn’t need to think. I almost knocked her over as I dived forward. She wrapped her arms around me and held me tight. And I cried and cried. The more I sobbed the tighter she held me. I clung to her like a bear to a tree. So many tears. I couldn’t stop them but I didn’t care. I knew it wouldn’t matter to Maggie; she never judged.

I don’t know how long she held me, rocking me gently and humming. If I’d thought about it we must have looked like a pair of crazies but it was the nicest thing. Being held and comforted by someone. Someone who cared. I can’t remember the last time anyone hugged me like that. I mean Mum did but I can’t remember the actual last time. I wish I could. If I’d known it was the last time with Mum I would have made an effort to remember it. To hold on to it. Save it as an image in my mind for me to return to whenever I needed. Maybe I’d save this hug instead.

Eventually I sat up and rubbed my wet face. ‘Maggie…’ I didn’t know what to say. It was all a bit awkward once the tears had dried up.

She got up and stretched out her legs. ‘I know it’s a weeknight but I think we need pudding. How about jam roly-poly?’

Somehow she managed to make me laugh. ‘Yeah. Great… and… thanks.’

‘Anytime,’ she said, wiping a tear off my chin as she passed.

*