I drop my bags on the floor and push past, making it to the front door before anyone tries to stop me. I hear Dad call my name, but I’m already gone. The stairwell is almost cool as I take the stairs three at a time. I imagine my parents looking at each other with a shared question: what are we going to do?

I start running before I even reach the street. I know it’s too hot for this, that I’ll probably feel even worse afterwards, but at least my legs can stretch and move and leave the flat behind. Soon I’m in my rhythm. As I pound along, thoughts flash furiously through my head. I can’t believe Dad would let her have my room. Even for a night. It’s the only way I can keep her out. He knows that. I cross the road and feel the afternoon sun on my head for a second until I’m back under the line of trees. The streets are empty.

BTF, when we lived in our old house, we’d sometimes go for long walks on balmy nights when we couldn’t get to sleep. We might hit the milk bar first and buy an ice-cream each and then eat it faster than it could melt while we wandered through our suburb. Dad and I haven’t done much exploring since we moved to the flat. He works. I’m at school. It’s just not the same.

There’s a dizziness starting in my head; I realise I need water. I know I won’t last much longer, but I can’t go home yet either. As I circle back towards the flat, I have an idea.

By the time I make it to the top of the stairs, I’m puffing wildly and I’m sure my face is as red as it can get. My t-shirt is sticking to me but at least my legs are still. They’ve lost that itchy feeling they get when they need to move. I knock, hoping Maggie will answer.

‘Yeah?’

But of course, just my luck, he opens the front door. We blink at each other, not knowing what to say. Then I remember to speak. ‘Oh, hey, Matt. It’s Clem from downstairs …’

‘Yeah …’

He’s a silhouette behind the flyscreen, but I can still make out his slouch, like he’s being interrupted.

‘Is Maggie home?’

‘No.’

‘Oh,’ I say, my voice flat. I just want to sit at Maggie’s table and eat cake.

‘You can come in if you want.’

I could be all stubborn and proud and leave, but I have no other options, and the background purr of Maggie’s air conditioner seals my decision.

‘Thanks,’ I say opening the flyscreen.