“Earle. My dad got so carried away thinking I was a boy on account of what a thickset baby I was, that by the time he saw I don’t got no pecker between my legs, the name had already stuck. So, I’m Earle, even though I’m a girl.”

Peter smiled. “Which at least rhymes.”

“Right. I mean what does boy even rhyme with?”

“Roy?”

“Yeah. I mean, the misery of that.”

Earle patted Peter squarely on the shoulder and a small red-haired boy, with dark freckles on his pale skin like a mottled egg, peered round the side of her waiting for his turn to say hello.

Earle sighed. “I’m not a tree. Just say hello.”

The boy didn’t move out from behind her, so Earle took a sidestep and presented him with both hands like a bored magician might do his assistant.

“Peter, meet Emmett. Emmett, Peter.”

The boy creased the corners of his mouth into an awkward smile and waved. “Earle likes to think that because she’s built like a refrigerator she can dominate me.”

Earle rolled her eyes. “A microwave could dominate you.”

“She does that a lot too. Puts people down. But she’s just an Eeyore.”

Peter shook his head. “Eeyore?”

“Yes,” said Emmett. “A sad donkey in existential crises.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“Never mind.”

“Well,” said Peter. “I wouldn’t worry about being small. I’m sixteen now but people have always told me I look a lot younger than I am, too.”

Emmett narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, but I’m only eleven.”

Peter sighed and Earle held his gaze without blinking. “So, that’s awkward for you.”

“Yup,” said Peter. “Anyway, I’m sorry I haven’t met you both properly before now.”

Emmett shrugged. “Cooper said you were awkward and liked to overcomplicate things.”

Cooper hooked his Stetson on a branch beside the fire and proceeded to warm his hands with a don’t look at me expression on his face.

“Oh,” said Peter after a while. “Did he?”

“He did,” said Emmett. “And I can see what he’s talking about.”

“Yeah,” said Earle. “Me too.”

Peter sighed. “Great.”

“But,” Earle went on, “I can see what he likes about you, too.”

Emmett nodded. “I concur. You’ve probably made a lot of mistakes, like a lot, which is hard for you to cope with because generally you’re probably quite nice. So don’t beat yourself up about them too much.”

“No,” said Earle. “Don’t. Even though the mistakes you’ve made are probably huge.”

Emmett nodded. “Like, huge.”