‘Text them back saying you’ll be home soon. Then stare at the sky for five and we’ll go. I don’t want you to get into trouble,’ he says.

‘Okay.’

‘You can have the lumpy end,’ says Matt, moving across so I can use half his backpack for a pillow.

‘Thanks.’ I balance my head on the edge of the bag, as far away from his head as possible.

‘If you stare up there long enough, then you realise everything down here is no biggie,’ he says.

I’m sure he’s right, but even losing myself in the slowly moving clouds isn’t enough to stop the worries rolling over me.

I hear Matt riffling around in the plastic packet. Then he holds a Mint Slice up in the air and snaps it in half. ‘Here, you have the big piece,’ he says awkwardly, handing me half a biscuit. But it’s a scrap, a tiny fragment. ‘Now you can never say I don’t share,’ he says lightly.

And, despite myself, I laugh.

By the time I reach the stairs to the flat, I feel a bit calmer. Matt salutes me as he heads up to Maggie’s. Then he pauses on the third step and says, ‘My choice of rooftop next.’

‘Maybe,’ I tell him, watching him disappear around the corner.

I don’t have my keys because I left in a bit of a hurry, so I have to knock. Dad flings the door open within seconds, which means he was waiting for me.

‘Hey, kiddo,’ he says, giving me a half-hug.

‘Hi.’

‘Your mum told me about the …’

‘Fire?’

‘Smoke,’ corrects Dad.

I roll my eyes at him, unimpressed that he’s trying to downplay it all. ‘If I wasn’t here, the flat …’

‘It was a mistake, Clem. We all make them.’

‘Yeah. I know,’ I say sarcastically. ‘Mum’s last mistake cost us everything.’

I try to step past him and into the flat, but he blocks the doorway. I see his chest fill with air like he’s readying for a fight.

‘Clem, we’re all trying. Go gentle. Okay?’

‘Whatever,’ I say.

His eyes track mine, searching for a way in. I look away. I know I’m behaving badly. I don’t want to. I want to tell Dad everything I’m feeling, but I’m hurt that he seems to worry more about Mum than me. If I try to tell him this, I’m going to sound selfish and mean.

‘This isn’t easy for her …’

‘Or me.’

‘Clem,’ says Dad sharply.

I can feel a rush of tears, but I will not cry in front of him.

‘Can I get past?’ I say, starting to push him aside.

‘There’s pizza if you want some.’

‘Sounds like blackmail.’

He sighs and then steps out of the way.