The policeman shouts. A pigeon, pecking at crumbs beneath a bench, is startled and flies into the air. A woman gasps, the crowd parts and my lungs burn as I launch myself through the open door and sprint down the carriage.

‘Billy!’ I shout as he reaches an empty seat at the end and pauses. ‘Billy, it’s—’

The words dry in my mouth as he turns and I see his profile.

It’s not Billy. It’s not him.

Tuesday 26th August 2014

Jackdaw44: Sorry.

ICE9: What for?

Jackdaw44: Telling you to go fuck yourself last week.

ICE9: No, you’re not. You want something.

Jackdaw44: Ha. Ha. Spot on.

ICE9: So?

Jackdaw44: Just wanted to talk to you.

ICE9: You know where I live.

Jackdaw44: Ha. Ha. Am at school. Need advice.

ICE9: What about?

Jackdaw44: Girls. Why are they such bitches?

ICE9: What makes you think I know?

Jackdaw44: I fucking hate Liv. She dumped me so why is she trying to put Jess off me?

ICE9: Jealous? Maybe she still fancies you.

Jackdaw44: Yeah, right. She’s fucking Ethan Thomas.

ICE9: Revenge?

Jackdaw44: What for?

ICE9: Did you cheat on her?

Jackdaw44: [confused face}

ICE9: That’s a yes then.

Jackdaw44: I was drunk.

ICE9: Dick.

Jackdaw44: That’s Mr Big Dick to you.

ICE9: Not according to Liv.

Jackdaw44: Fuck off. (Not sorry.)

Chapter 12

‘I’m not sure this is a good idea,’ Mum says as I turn the key in the lock. ‘I don’t feel right leaving you here alone. Not after what happened. He was decent though, wasn’t he, that policeman? In the end. I knew he wouldn’t fine us, not when we told him about Billy. You saw the look on his face when he told us he had a son of about the same age. Kind of him to say he’d keep an eye out and help spread the word.’

She follows me into the kitchen, hovering in the middle of the room as I drop my handbag onto a chair and open the fridge.

‘Are you okay?’ Mum asks. ‘I know you feel embarrassed about what happened on the train but you mustn’t let it get to you. Imagine if it had been Billy and you hadn’t gone after him. You’d never have forgiven yourself.’

‘I thought I’d do a casserole for tea,’ I say. ‘I know it’s the summer but everyone likes a sausage casserole, don’t they? I drop two onions, five carrots and two packs of sausages onto the counter. ‘Twelve sausages – that’ll be enough, won’t it, although God only knows Jake could probably finish off the lot himself.’

‘Claire, talk to me, sweetheart. You haven’t said a word since we left the station.’

I take a knife from the block on the counter. ‘The onions haven’t had long enough in the fridge to chill the juices. I always cry if they’re too fresh.’