It was Lanark Avenue, and everyone was close, and you could smell them and hear them, and every day they got a little closer, if you weren’t careful. I could hear Jen, Depeche Mode (again), and Mum mixing cupcakes. I could smell Wendy’s powder, and someone had permed her hair like pavlova.

‘Shame, what happened,’ she said.

‘What’s that?’

‘Oswald. Nice fella. But I wish they’d do something about this place. It’s a disgrace.’

‘Did he leave them?’ I asked.

She gave me that look, and thought better of it. ‘Yes, he left them.’

‘I heard he killed himself.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘Just heard.’

‘Don’t know about that. Think he just left.’

I got the that’s-all-you-need-to-know look. She must’ve known I was a snoop; Les must have explained it all.

‘He was good to you, wasn’t he? Like a father, eh?’

‘Sort of.’

‘That’s what I’d say to Les. Pity Clem hasn’t got a dad, but at least he’s got Oswald.’

‘Yes.’

‘You were in there two or three times a day sometimes. Tina must have got tired of you, but Oswald never said nothin’, did he?’

‘No.’

‘Very patient man. Suppose that comes from being a teacher. Not like Les—he wouldn’t have the patience for kiddies. But Oswald. I can still remember you on his back, piggying you up and down the drive, and you pretending to whip him, and him goin’ like a horse … Can you remember that?’

‘No.’

‘And Vicky, I think she was a bit jealous.’

It was the way she said these words that made me think.

‘He could see you had a brain and he didn’t want it to go to waste. You were lucky to have him.’

I could feel my heart racing. Lucky? Of course.

‘Not that Doug’s never done his best, but he’s old, eh? And a boy needs a dad.’

Oswald. But maybe someone else, earlier. Someone carrying me. I said, ‘Do you remember when I was born?’

‘Long time ago.’

‘And Dad bringing me over, for you to have a look?’

She took a moment. ‘I reckon he mighta.’

‘Was he happy?’

‘Well, you would be, wouldn’t yer? I reckon he was over the moon. I reckon he couldn’t wait to tell us all, to show yer. I reckon it was the day after you came home from hospital.’

That was enough. I turned, ran home and flew through the front door, into the kitchen. The mixer was still going. ‘Mrs Champness reckons he showed me around.’

Mum stopped the mixer. ‘What?’

‘Wendy reckons Dad showed me to everyone. Said he was over the moon.’

‘Guess he was.’

‘So why would he leave?’

She switched it back on, studied the mixture.

‘Why?’ I switched it off. ‘He didn’t want to go.’

‘Don’t talk about what you don’t know.’