Fine was the last thing I’d be with a life mapped out for me at the bastard dog food factory. I needed to get out of this. I stared at the letter: 5pm. ‘Dad, I’m really sorry but I can’t make it.’

‘Why? What’s more important than getting a job?’ He was leaning over me.

‘Err. Going to university. Saving the library.’

He snorted a laugh. ‘You’re joking, right?’

This was my chance to stand up for what I wanted. To explain what was important to me. To be my own man. But I bottled it. ‘I need to go.’ I picked up my toast and almost knocked my chair over in my rush to get away.

‘See you later. Fish fingers for tea?’

‘Err, yeah. If you like.’ How the hell was I going to get out of this?

*

Wednesday I got in early from school because I only had one exam. I was quiet when I let myself in because I expected Dad to be in bed. I’d been distracted in my exam because all I could think about was the job at the factory. At one point I actually thought I could smell dog food but it must have been a waft of school dinners from the canteen – it was lasagne, which was a worry. I went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Out of the window I saw Dad.

I watched him come out of the shed backwards with his work bag weighing heavy on his shoulder. He pocketed the shed key. He slunk down the side of the house and out of sight. A chill settled over me. We only went in the shed to get the lawnmower out but it couldn’t be that because the grass hadn’t been cut. He was hiding something and it didn’t take a genius to work out what. I slumped back against the worktop like someone had punched the air from me. I instantly felt crap. I’d thought he was doing well. He’d kept all his appointments and I’m sure I would have smelled beer or whisky on him – maybe he’d changed to vodka. I don’t think that has a smell.

I went out to the shed, checking over my shoulder in case Dad came back. The door was locked. Back in the kitchen I looked for the shed key but it was missing.

A wave of anxiety came crashing over me. I rang Farah – I needed to speak to someone and share the worries threatening to overspill. I couldn’t go through it all again.

I thought it was going to go to voicemail when at last she answered. ‘Hi.’ She sounded cautious. I didn’t know what to say now I’d rung her. This was horrible. ‘You okay?’ she asked.

‘No. Dad’s acting all sus.’

‘Drinking?’