Because, if I’m honest, I don’t know. I just know that I need to say something. Do something.

We step on to the soft black sponge of the playground.

We walk past the deserted roundabout and the empty swings.

We stumble across the hopscotch.

And then we’re at the steps to the castle climbing frame. Where once I saw long, strong fingers grab the rusted handles and pull us up. This time, I reach out and see my own.

And I might not have the spoons to grab them and pull myself up, but I have brilliant, wonderful parents to lift me.

They slide me on to the castle floor and the wooden slats feel like sandpaper. I press my back against the wall and feel its coldness through my dress like an icy puddle. I grip on as tightly as my hands will allow and try to remember to breathe.

But it’s hard to do that. Because there – in front of me – head in his hands.

Is Rowan.

71

Alice and Rowan

And now I am here. Seeing Rowan whole – from his fists clutching the roots of his hair, through the bend of his body, to his torn trainers stomping on the mermaid.

I see him. I see him and my whole body seems to spark to life and splutter out in one go.

I bury my head.

Usually if I ignore people,

they eventually go away.

I need this stranger to

get lost

before I lose myself.

I breathe. Breathe.

‘Thanks, Dad.’

He slides a look at Rowan before asking me, ‘You okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ I breathe. ‘Could you give us a moment?’

My heart is hammering.

Go away. Go away. Go away.

I feel as if I’m

burning.

Imploding like a dying star.

And now there are

E Y E S

watching me melt down.

‘I’ll be over with your mum,’ Dad says.

He flashes Rowan another suspicious look and moves away to sit on the nearby bench with Mum.

And then it’s just him and me. Alice and Rowan. Together.

He’s not looking at me, so I take a moment to breathe and pick through my words.

‘Rowan? I’m here.’

I wrench my head up, expecting

– the headteacher

– social services

– the police

ready to ask the questions that will

take Jonah away from me for good.

But instead I see a real-life

ghost girl

pressed against the wall like she’s

keeping it up.

‘Alice?’

My guts roller-coaster

and I’m not sure which feeling to pick out

through the stabbing guilt in me and

the hope in her smile.

I shake my head. ‘What are you doing here?’

He knows me. He knows me in this body even though it’s slipping through the slats in the floor.

And even though I can feel his pain radiating from him like a fever, the world has never seemed a more beautiful place.