Saoirse gets into her car and drives away from her instruction, leaving my family to live with it. Closing the door, I hear Amber’s soft step coming down the stairs. Her hair is tied into a plait twisted up on top of her head. I wonder what is going on in her head. What does she really think about her new half-brother coming to live with us? She hasn’t said much about it, in fact she’s been very quiet lately, which is unusual for her. When asked directly, she said she had no objections but we’ll wait and see if she thinks the same way when she can’t get into the shower tomorrow morning.

‘Is he in there?’ Amber whispers, pointing at the playroom. I nod. ‘Should I go in and say hello?’

‘If you like but knock on the door, always knock on the door, Amber.’

‘I wish you’d do the same for me, everyone seems to think my bedroom is a commune.’ And she’s back. My heart lifts. Maybe things will be okay.

The evening was strange. By the time the boys were asleep in bed and Amber in her room I’d almost forgotten there was a stranger living in the playroom at the side of the house. Tom poured me a glass of wine which I gladly accepted.

With my feet tucked behind me on the sofa, I search Netflix hoping for something to take my mind someplace else for a while. That’s when I hear it.

The howls of pain coming from the playroom are unlike anything I’ve ever heard.

‘Ring her, for fuck’s sake, Tom. We can’t leave him like that, the kid is in bits in there.’

I want Tom to ring the social worker and tell her the kid is not happy here, his heart is broken and they need to do something to help him.

‘What do you mean ring her? He’s our problem now, Sal. I can’t ring her every time he gets upset.’

‘That’s not upset, Tom. I’m upset, that sounds like the kid is having a nervous breakdown or something. We can’t just ignore it.’

‘I’ll go in to him.’

Holding my dressing gown tightly across my chest, I stand in the hallway, frightened by what I’m hearing. Amber is coming down the stairs again, her eyes wide with fear. ‘Is he okay?’

The door won’t open when Tom pushes on the handle, Kenny must have it locked. Tom attempts to talk through the keyhole.

‘Kenny, are you all right, do you want me to come in?’

It’s as if he doesn’t hear us, that he has forgotten he’s in someone else’s house.

Amber stands at my side holding on to my arm, urging Tom to talk to him again but the results are the same. It’s like we’re not here.