‘I’m sorry. I’m so – she’s really lovely. She’s just –’

‘A tad overprotective?

Yeah. Got that.’

I take a deep breath.

‘I hope you got

whatever you needed

from that at least.’

And I can’t help it. I smile. Because Cecelia still cares about me. Enough to threaten a perfectly lovely boy.

And that feels like hope.

57

Alice

I’m listening to an old Spice Girls’ song. One of Mum’s favourites from back in the day.

She left it on accidentally to cover the noise of the washing machine downstairs, but I have enough spoons to listen to it today.

Listening to music = 1 spoon

The song undulates, reminding me of Wesley and our cycle rides. But this time, when I remember them, no car comes out of nowhere and stops us. We just keep riding, down cycle paths overgrown with trees, over railway bridges and the very tops of hills.

And it makes me think of Rowan, too. Cycling next to me because he wants to be. With me.

I just wish I could say that back.

I close my eyes and listen to the peaks and troughs, and long lanes of notes. And it’s only when I notice a strange prickle on the tops of my hands that I realize that someone’s watching me.

‘Cecelia!’

I lean over and smack the music off, struggling up to sitting and trying to brush my hair out of my eyes.

She has her school uniform on and her hand is gripping my bed frame like she might float away. She looks at me. I look at her. And we both start speaking at once.

‘You really mustn’t pay attention to –’

‘You must think I’m a complete –’

We break off. She looks back at the door and then closes it and I try to wipe my sweaty hands down my duvet without her noticing.

It’s weird to see her standing at the end of my bed. Usually she’s jumping over it, crawling between the sheets with me. She opens her mouth and closes it a few times and, standing next to Manta, she almost looks like a fish, too.

Finally, she says, ‘I didn’t know, you know. About your illness.’

I find myself laughing her words away, but I stop myself. I stop myself lying. It’s time for her to see.

‘Yes, you did.’

Her eyes open wide and she comes a step closer to me. ‘No, honestly I didn’t, Al. You always seemed fine when I came up and always going on about tae kwon do. Like, okay, yes, I knew you weren’t very well or whatever, but I didn’t know … I didn’t know it was this bad.’

‘It’s not bad,’ I say quickly. ‘I am happy.’