Fine. I saw why people liked her; she was warm, and spoke like you were the only thing in the world that required her attention. But she wasn’t how I expected. I felt embarrassed – that I’d built up this whole character for her in my head, and had formed opinions on that character, without ever hearing the actual girl speak. I liked her, I decided. I liked June Copeland.

‘Bereavement perks,’ I said. I looked towards Dad’s headstone in an attempt to inject some sort of reality into this largely unbelievable situation. How long did it take for a human body to decompose?

‘What are you thinking?’ she asked.

‘Uh, nothing,’ I said, then reconsidered: brutal honesty had worked thus far. ‘I guess I was just wondering if he’s turned into … I don’t know. Worm food.’

‘Dude. Is that seriously your sense of humour?’

A hot confidence rushed through me. I wasn’t sure why, but I suddenly felt like it was very important to impress her. ‘Oh, that’s just the beginning. Bit the big one. Gave up the ghost.’ She snickered. Maybe it was just very important to make her laugh. ‘Pine overcoat.’

‘Shuffled off this mortal coil?’ she said, and I laughed, recognizing the line as Shakespeare. ‘Are you in AP Language this year?’ I nodded. ‘You read Hamlet next year. It’ll be right up your alley.’

‘Why?’

‘I mean, people have their opinions about it, whatever, but it’s mainly just a sissy, lamenting about death –’

‘Am I the sissy lamenting about death?’ I asked, tongue lodged firmly in my cheek.

She laughed. ‘No! It’s like, I don’t mean you’re a sissy, I mean you’d probably think it’s funny. I … this feels inappropriate. This feels like a weird way to have this conversation right now.’

I rested my chin in my hands and eyed the headstone again. ‘If I can’t laugh at it, or anything, then, I don’t know. I’m gonna …’ I finished the thought in my head: go crazy. Why – was – I telling her this? All the red lights in my brain flashed, the sirens went off: abort, abort, Sydney’s sharing intimate information with a total stranger, get her out of there!

But I didn’t go. I stayed. We stayed. Talked for a while, laughed so loud I hoped it’d be enough to wake the dead, all the dead, and I’d get to walk off with Dad, and maybe some kids would get to speak to Grandma’s skeletal remains – but instead of from below, the rumbling came from above. The rain picked up. Heavy, fat beads of it.

June looked up and squinted, the spray from the gentle splashes against her cheekbones clinging to her eyelashes. ‘Uh-oh. You came on your bike.’

I knew rain like this; the sky was about to open. ‘It’s OK. Luckily I’m water-resistant, so.’