He was taking the piss. ‘No. Purple, yellow, white and a pinky red. They taste the same.’

He screwed his nose up. ‘Never liked carrots much anyway, I can’t imagine dyed ones taste any better.’

I opened my mouth to explain but he was stirring his coffee and it wasn’t worth the effort. I missed having someone I could properly talk to.

*

After he’d gone to work I switched off the TV, pulled the curtains closed in the living room, moved the table out of the way and pushed back the sofa to make myself some space. I sat on the floor with my legs crossed, which seemed easy now. I liked doing yoga but I knew Dad would rip it out of me if he knew. He scoffed every time he saw me with a book so I figured the yoga would have tipped him over the edge. He was set in his ways and stuff like this would have weirded him out. I found it calming and after a day of full-on exam stress I needed to “chill out” as Maggie would have put it.

I did a few of the easier positions to warm up and concentrated on my breathing. Maggie and I had a bit of a practised routine. I hadn’t realised it at the time but doing yoga and talking about stuff at school made me relax. I don’t feel relaxed here. I can’t remember if I ever did. I did the plank for a long count until my arms started to shake. Maybe I could push myself a bit. Before I considered the pose I checked where I was in relation to the TV. If I fell on that and broke it Dad would have a blue hairy fit. The TV was his life.

I took my time to place my hands in the right position and feel where my weight was. I pushed myself up into a headstand. There was a brief wobble but I tightened my stomach muscles and it worked. I was stable. I was chuffed that I’d done it unaided and was holding the position. I let my mind drift.

The front door swung open and banged into the wall. ‘Forgot my bloody pass card,’ said Dad, looming in the doorway. For a millisecond I thought how odd he looked upside down. Then I realised the situation, lost concentration and toppled to the carpet in a semi-controlled way. ‘What the hell?’ said Dad.

I scrambled to my feet, embarrassment threatening to swallow me up. ‘I… I… yoga.’ Was all I could manage. I felt like a total idiot.

Dad looked embarrassed and shocked in equal measure. He waved his work key card at me and looked away. ‘Right. I’d best get off.’

‘Yeah. Bye.’

‘Bye.’

I hoped this would be something else we’d never talk about.

*