I listen to the shuffling sound as Mum puts the phone next to Dara. Then nothing. Or maybe the tiniest whisper of his breath.

Then Mum’s voice comes back on. ‘Did you catch that?’ she asks softly. ‘He just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.’

‘Thanks, Mum.’ I smile. ‘Tell him happy birthday from me too.’

Mum laughs. Even her laugh sounds smaller and quieter than usual. ‘Love you, Charlie. Can’t wait to see you in a bit.’

‘Love you too, Mum. See you later. Bye.’ I pass the phone back to Dad.

‘Hello again, so when are they releasing you from captivity? … Right.’ Dad gets up and wanders out of my room. ‘When will that be?’

I lean my elbows on the window sill and look outside. It’s a beautiful day; the air tastes warm and full of promise. I love it that our house is right on the edge of Mandel Forest; you just open the gate at the bottom of our garden and you’re there – in the oldest wood in the whole country. I can smell the sweet scent of honeysuckle and the sharp stink of elderflower; the leaves of the birch trees at the forest’s edge flicker silver in the sunlight. I stand up on the window sill; over the hill on the other side of the forest I can just see the glinting metal roof of the hospital tower – that’s where Mum is. I smile to myself. And Dara. In one of the neighbours’ gardens a lawnmower engine hums; somewhere else little kids are playing. I can hear them squealing and squeaking like kittens. I lean out a bit so I can see into Lamont’s garden, just in case he’s there. But there’s only Nero, snoozing in the morning sun.

‘Lamont!’ I yell. ‘Hey, Lamont!’

I hear the clunk and slide of his bedroom window opening, then his tousled head appears.

‘Hi, Charlie.’ Lamont yawns. ‘Happy birthday!’

That takes me by surprise a bit because I’d almost forgotten. I can’t believe I’d almost forgotten my own birthday!

‘Thanks.’ I say. ‘Guess what?’

‘You got a phone?’

‘Nope. Not yet anyway. I got a brother!’

Lamont’s eyes widen like he’s suddenly awake and he grins a huge grin. ‘Wooooohooooo!’ he yells. ‘That’s brilliant, Charlie! A brother! I’m jealous!’

Lamont has one sister, Marie. She’s fourteen and she’s only interested in horses and boyfriends.

‘A brother!’ he says again. ‘What’s his name?’

‘Dara,’ I say. The word feels very new when I say it.

‘Nice,’ says Lamont.

‘Nice,’ I say back, and we grin at each other out of our bedroom windows.

I hear Lamont’s mum calling him from inside the house.

‘Gotta go,’ he says, and his head disappears back through his window. Then pops straight back out, like a cuckoo in a cuckoo clock.

‘Brilliant!’ he says, and he gives me a big thumbs up before he vanishes inside again.

I smile proudly to myself, all tingly and warm inside, because Lamont’s right, it is brilliant to have a brother at last. ‘I’m the eldest,’ I say to myself, practising. I look at my tatty old playhouse, abandoned for years at the bottom of the garden. I’ll paint it up again really nicely, blue and white. I’ll fill my old sandpit with new sand too and Dara can play in it when he’s bigger. I imagine taking Dara paddling in the river for the first time, when he can walk of course. Then I imagine holding his hand as he toddles along the high street and, in my head, Mrs Rodriguez, my old primary school teacher, comes out of the Co-op and sees us.