‘I’ll drive you. Just this morning,’ he says, hefting my bag onto his back.

‘Really?’

‘Yep. And I’ll drop you off close enough so you don’t have to walk far with this thing, but far enough so nobody knows I’ve driven you!’

I sigh and feel all the scratchiness leave my body. ‘Thanks.’

‘Did I just score some helpfulness points?’

‘You did.’

‘That’s a relief,’ he says with a smile.

I try a smile in return, and it’s just the opening he needs to drag me into a hug. His arms are strong like thick branches. This is what I’ve missed.

‘My little girl, all grown up,’ he whispers in my ear. I can hear the emotion in his voice.

‘I’m aiming to grow a bit more, actually. I really hope this isn’t it!’

He releases me with a laugh. ‘Good things come in small packages, Clem.’

I raise an eyebrow and he winks back at me. I want to stay in this moment and skip starting my first day of high school.

‘Come on, kiddo. I’m hungry,’ he says, walking out of my room.

Mum is already sitting at the table, surrounded by bowls and cups and cereal boxes, clearly waiting for us. I notice the fruit salad and the pot of tea, like everything has been laid out to tempt me. My stomach lurches at the thought of food and I know I’ll be struggling to even drink water at the moment. It’s like the morning of a big athletics meet when, despite Dad’s attempts to make me eat, all I can face are jelly snakes.

‘I wasn’t sure what you’d feel like, but I promise no chickpeas were hurt during the preparation of this breakfast,’ says Mum with a small smile. Behind me, Dad drops my bag onto the ground with a loud thud.

‘I’m not that hungry,’ I say as my stomach does another nervous flutter. I pull out a seat and sit down. I feel as if I’ve run a marathon, and it’s only 7.45am.

Unexpectedly, Mum says, ‘I never feel hungry when I’m nervous, either.’

‘Honey, you started a new school last year and you were fine. This isn’t much different,’ says Dad, sitting down next to me and helping himself to a huge bowl of fruit salad.

Before I can snap Dad’s head off, Mum leaps to my defence. ‘It’s really different, Peter. For a start, the year-twelve boys look like fully grown men!’

Despite how much my heart is racing, I laugh. ‘They’re giants. It’s true.’

Mum slides her hand over and takes mine. ‘I remember being terrified of getting lost and of not being able to find my locker. It’s okay, Clem. It’s all quite normal.’