‘Jackson? What is it? What’s happened?’

He’s sitting on the floor, clutching his knees, rocking backwards and forwards. He stares at her, his eyes wide with terror, but says nothing.

She rushes forward, sits with him on the floor and puts her arms around him. ‘Are you hurt? Tell me what’s happened.’ She’s trying to be calm, to steady her pounding heart. He doesn’t look hurt, she assures herself. Whatever it is, Jackson is at least physically okay.

He shakes his head, continues rocking back and forth.

Holly strokes his hair. ‘Okay, good. But what’s happened?’

‘It’s… it’s Dad.’ He buries his head in her chest, clutching her so tightly she almost can’t breathe.

‘What about him? Did he call you?’ She doesn’t want to hear that Jackson has confronted him, but she knows that’s what’s coming. It couldn’t be anything else.

‘He’s… de… dead.’

She takes his arms, peels him off her. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Mum, I think I did something terrible.’ He’s sobbing, and she can barely make out what he’s saying. ‘I didn’t mean to do it!’ he cries.

What happens next is like living through a nightmare, only she knows she won’t be waking up any time soon. She will remember it for as long as she’s on this earth; she already knows this as Jackson stands, grabs her hand and pulls her towards the kitchen.

She sees the blood before she notices Greg. A deep, kidney-shaped crimson pool. She turns to Jackson, who is shaking and hysterical. He’s trying to tell her what happened, but she can only grasp hold of certain phrases. She doesn’t need to ask how Jackson did it – her solid marble fruit bowl is covered in blood next to his body.

She needs to be calm, for his sake. It’s too late to help Greg, so now she needs to help her son and do whatever it takes to keep him safe. It’s all so clear to her in these moments; there is no other option – she is a mother.

The words come out of her mouth before she’s even thought them through, and she tells Jackson that everything will be okay. They will clean up, keep Greg’s body somewhere – in the shed is the place that comes to mind – until she can work out what to do.

‘What was he doing here?’ she asks.

‘I… called him and asked him to come. It was an accident! I didn’t mean to hurt him! He kept telling me he didn’t want to talk about it, but I needed to know why he did that to you! He just wouldn’t talk and then he kept shouting at me!’