Mum pulls my bed up and asks me how I am, and this time I tell her the good and the bad. I tell her that the bones in my legs are burning again. I tell her that I’m worried about whether or not I will ever become a marine biologist. I tell her that I’m nervous about seeing Rowan.

But I also tell her that I love her. That I’m looking forward to whatever Dad has cooked up on the Cure Board for next week. And that really, right now at least, I’m happy.

She leans down and kisses me on the forehead, and I decide to tell her something else, too.

‘Mum – I’m sorry that I’m Ill and that you had to give up your singing to look after me.’

She seems to fall into me for a moment, but when she lifts her head back again, her face is a smooth line. She cups my face in her hands.

‘Never be sorry for that, Alice. Never.’ Her eyes are storm-sky grey. ‘You give me more joy than a hundred dance routines ever did.’

She traces her finger round the line of my smile.

‘Don’t you miss it, though? A little?’

She sighs and sits down on the bed. ‘Sometimes – yes. Mainly just the other girls – they were a hoot.’

I take her hand. ‘Maybe you could join a class or something? Have your own Cure Board day.’

She laughs. ‘Your dad’s crazy antics are enough for me.’

But I look at her. ‘Seriously, though, Mum. Your life doesn’t have to be just about me.’

She opens her mouth and I see the curve of a fake smile before she swallows it down. And then she leans over me, putting her lips on our fingers for a moment.

‘I’ll think about it. Although I love having you as my world, Alice – don’t you forget it. You’re not just a job to me, you know – you’re also the strongest and most wonderful person.’

I smile until we both get a bit uncomfortable and she stands up, smoothing my bedspread under her hands.

‘I do wish I could be more for you, though. If I could, I’d fill these walls full of people for you.’

I grimace. ‘That sounds loud.’

‘You know what I mean,’ she says. ‘People your age. Like you.’

She turns and carries on getting ready for work. But her words – they get me thinking.

I hadn’t thought about there being others like me. Not the same age, but those trapped inside walls. Others that are still here, in this in-between, or ducking up from seabed to surface and wondering how to float. Or whether or not they even want to float – or just keep swimming, any way they can, to the surface.

Mum leaves for work, so I open my laptop and connect to Stream Cast.