Ged rolled out of bed around ten o’clock. It was the weekend and he liked to have a lie-in when it wasn’t a school day, but he was up earlier than usual today. Frankie was still well away, snoring his head off. Ged looked over at him and smiled. He’d got stoned for the first time and they’d talked for hours. Frankie was even going to go with him to the big house so he could see his dad. How cool was that? His dad would be buzzing to see him. He’d only ever visited once before with his mam, years ago, it scared the living daylights out of him. Screws everywhere, body searches, so many criminals under the one roof. It wasn’t a nice place to be. Frankie said he’d do the journey with him, hang around while Ged saw his old man, show his mum he was old enough to see his dad by himself. He said he was going to buy some new trainers for Ged too, said he’d hook him up until he got some cash of his own. Ged had confided in him that he was on his arse and he wouldn’t be able to pay the money back any time soon, but his new friend insisted – he was helping a mate out.

Ged sauntered into the front room in his boxers, bare-chested. His mam rushed in from the kitchen, scanning the room as if she was looking for somebody. She was acting strange, he noticed it straight away.

‘Do you want a brew or some breakfast?’

Ged slumped onto the sofa, pulled the cushion up over his chest. ‘Nah, not hungry.’

Clare sat down at the other end of the sofa, fidgeting; she couldn’t keep still. What was up with her? Ged could feel her looking at him, she was doing his head in, making him paranoid. ‘What’s up, why do you keep staring at me?’

Clare swallowed. ‘No reason,’ she paused. ‘Erm … I came in your room earlier, who’s that in bed with you, Son?’

Ged played it down, didn’t want his mam to know how grateful he’d been to find someone to talk to, to hang out with. He picked up the control for his game and turned the TV on.

‘That’s Frankie, he got his head down here last night. He’s a mate. He’s sorted, he looks out for me.’

Clare’s eyes were wide open. What was that pop group back in the eighties called? Frankie Goes To Hollywood. There you go. She studied her son as he set the game up. She had to know. ‘So, where has this Frankie come from? You’ve never mentioned him before?’