A breeze rippled through the hawthorn. Something tiny caught my eye. A chrysalis, swaying, suspended under a leaf. A brand-new butterfly inside. All wrapped up and thinking itself safe, but hanging by only the tiniest thread.

It was late. I pulled down the blackouts and got undressed but I didn’t get into bed. I sat up against my pillow, knees tucked under my nightshirt.

Food.

Had to get Una some more food.

To catch her. Not to help her.

She was a wanderer. Dirty, dangerous, deceitful.

I wasn’t doing this to help her.

Not really.

I practised wiggling my ears while I waited for everyone else to go to sleep.

When it was quiet I turned on my billy lamp. It glowed warm in the darkness. I picked it up and crept out of my room.

Shadows loomed on the walls as I padded down the stairs. Quietly, quietly, quietly.

Eeeeeeeek. Why did the kitchen door squeak so loud at night? Hardly noticed it at all during the day. Funny how your hearing gets better at night but your seeing gets worse. I lifted the lamp a bit higher.

Sniff, sniff.

I stopped. Was that someone in the sitting room?

Sniff.

I let a little light through the doorway. Someone was there, curled up in an armchair, crying. Right in front of Jed’s portrait.

Mum?

Mum didn’t curl up. Mum didn’t cry.

Mum dug up potatoes and shouted at dairy cows and trod muddy boots over clean kitchen floors.

She didn’t curl up and cry.

“Mum?”

She jerked up.

“Maggie? You made me jump. What are doing down here?” She looked away, hiding her face.

“Just getting some water.” My eyes were getting used to the dimness. I could see some of the Real Jed. His hands. His face.

“It’s a wonderful portrait, isn’t it?” Mum cleared her throat, smoothed down her nightshirt. “We’re lucky. Mr Wetheral has done us proud. Yes, we’re very lucky. Brave Jed is off to camp on Saturday, and we’ve got a wonderful portrait to keep. We couldn’t be any luckier.”

“Are you all right, Mum?”

What do you do when your mum cries?

Hug her?

Say something?

I just stayed in the doorway.

“Yes, yes,” she said. “I’m fine. I’m going to miss him, that’s all. Jed. I’m going to miss him when he goes to camp. And I’ve been thinking about Lil too, and all the things we used to do together.”

“But Lil’s doing OK, isn’t she?” Lil. Mum’s big sister who went to camp years ago. A commander in the Quiet War now, too busy to visit.

“Mmmm? Oh – yes. Yes, she’s doing fine. I just miss her. And I’ll miss Jed.”

“But it’s good that he’s going to camp, Mum. He’s an eldest. Special. Brave.”

“Course it is, Magsie. Course it is. Absolutely right.”