‘Let’s get your sandals off,’ Mum says as she fiddles with the straps, then pulls them off my feet.

She hovers at the end of the bed as I curl my knees up to my chest and pull the duvet over my shoulders.

‘You sleep,’ she says as my eyes close. ‘You sleep, sweetheart, for as long as you need.’

Thursday 27th November 2014

Jackdaw44: FUCK.

ICE9: What?

Jackdaw44: Busted.

ICE9: What?!!!

Jackdaw44: Mum found a bunch of tickets from the machines on Weston pier. She went through my jeans pockets when she was doing the washing. She knows I wasn’t in town with mates when I skived school last week.

ICE9: Jesus! I thought you meant WE’D been busted. I nearly had a heart attack.

Jackdaw44: That’s old age for you.

ICE9: You’re an idiot.

Jackdaw44: And you’re amazing at blow jobs. I can’t stop thinking about last week. You’re a fucking pro.

ICE9: Charming.

Jackdaw44: Not like that. You were fucking amazing. And it wasn’t weird.

ICE9: You thought me sucking you off would be weird?

Jackdaw44: Well, duh. Seemed like you were enjoying yourself too.

ICE9: I can’t believe we’re having this conversation!

Jackdaw44: That means you did.

ICE9: I think you know the answer to that.

Jackdaw44:

Chapter 41

When I wake it is dark, the only light a low glow from beneath the bedroom door. For one terrifying second I’m convinced that I’ve suffered another fugue but then I make out the shapes of the boxes beside the bed and the bundle of clothing hooked over the metal frame on the back of the door and I realize where I am. At the same time the memory of what happened in Sonia’s office earlier comes flooding back. I rub my fist against my chest but the pain doesn’t dissipate. It can’t be soothed like a small child’s bumped elbow or bruised knee. It is relentless.

Dead.

Billy is dead. I know it with the same level of certainty that I know my name is Claire Wilkinson.

My younger child has gone and he’s never coming back. I’ll never get to hold his angular body in my arms again, inhale his scent or hear his voice. I’ll never watch him fall in love. I’ll never see the look of adoration and terror on his face as his wife-to-be walks down the aisle. I’ll never get to watch his face light up with love and fear as he holds his first child in his arms. My baby. My child. My beautiful son. I was there for every scratched knee, every playground fight, every monster in the dark, every nightmare, but I wasn’t there when he needed me most.