Who’s this then, Charlie? she asks in my daydream.

‘This is my little brother, Dara,’ I say out loud, bringing myself back to where I actually am.

I hear a real-life miaow. It’s Howard Carter, my cat, who’s in the kitchen, still waiting for his breakfast. Poor old Howard Carter! Usually Mum feeds him first thing, or Dad. Maybe looking after Howard Carter will end up being my job now that Dara’s here. I head downstairs to feed him.

As I pass Mum and Dad’s bedroom I hear Dad’s voice from behind the closed door.

‘Are you sure?’ He sounds serious.

I stop to listen.

‘Are you sure you’re sure? Did you mention it to the doctor?’

My heart starts to thud.

‘OK. OK, love. Calm down. We’ll be in to see you later. It’s all right … It’s all right.’

Is something wrong with Mum? With the baby?

‘No, no, of course I won’t say anything to Charlie … Yep. Yep. Will do. Give Dara a kiss from me too. Love you. Bye.’

Dad opens the door and nearly bowls me over.

‘Oh,’ he says.

‘What exactly won’t you say to Charlie?’

‘Oh,’ he says again.

‘What’s wrong? Is Mum sick? Is Dara all right?’

‘No. Mum’s not sick, Charlie. She’s just a bit tired and upset because it’s been a long day and a long night. She wants to come home, with Dara, so we can all be together.’

‘Well, why can’t they come home?’

‘They will. The doctors just need to check them both over and say it’s OK first.’

‘Then why’s Mum so worried?’

Dad hesitates. ‘She’s not worried.’

My dad is a really bad liar. I stare at him until his eyes meet mine.

‘Charlie.’ He sighs again. ‘We don’t want you to worry …’

‘Dad!’ I sigh back at him. ‘I’m already worried! And I’d rather know what to worry about, otherwise I’ll just worry anyway. I’ll worry about stuff that isn’t even actually happening.’

Dad thinks about that for a minute and finally nods.

‘And I’m twelve now anyway. I can handle it.’

Dad smiles; his eyes crinkle up at the edges.

‘Mum’s a bit worried about Dara. The doctors did some tests. They listened to Dara’s heart and it doesn’t sound quite right. So they’re doing some scans and things, to check that everything’s fine. That’s all. It’s probably nothing. Nothing to worry about.’ Dad smiles at me but this time it doesn’t reach his eyes.

I nod and give Dad a little smile back.

‘OK,’ I say. Behind my back I cross my fingers so tight it hurts, as my head whirls with thoughts about my new baby brother and his tiny not-right heart.

DARA

I see Mum through the glass door before she sees me. She’s sitting up in the hospital bed with the covers over her legs, staring out of the big window. Usually Mum ties her hair back but today it’s big and frizzy and wild.

We open the door. Mum turns to face us. She smiles and stretches out her hand to me.