Lana thought Gareth was OK too – and she was really going to miss him over the forthcoming weeks. But she was also going to miss the sanctuary of his little home. His two-bedroomed flat above the ancient launderette in Coed Celyn, which was pronounced Koyd Kellin and literally translated as Holly Wood. The flat was a world away from her own household, which was bursting at the seams with an ever-growing family.

Just before Lana’s fourth birthday, her mother had suddenly died. Lana could barely remember her, but she did remember that for three years after that it had been just the two of them – Lana and her dad, Keith. Then, seemingly from nowhere, Janis had appeared and two became three. Janis was great. She’d always been patient and kind with her little stepdaughter and treated her as her own. But before long there was a baby sister on the way, followed by another, then another, until Lana’s status as an only child had become very much a distant memory, finding herself the eldest of five girls.

These days she shared a bedroom with her fifteen-year-old sister, who was incapable of not talking. And everything in her family home was noisy and messy and dramatic. It wasn’t that everyone was always arguing, but everyone was always SHOUTING. And sometimes Lana hankered for peace like iced lemonade on a dusty bike ride. Which is why she continually sought solace in Gareth’s little two-bedroom flat. She loved it. Yes, it was shabby and the décor was grim; there were no radiators, just an old gas heater that they dragged from room to room when it was cold, and there was never enough hot water for a proper bath. Condensation trickled down the windows in winter, and in summer, when they opened them, they were frequently made queasy by the overpowering smell of washing powder floating up from the launderette. But she loved it.

Arriving back in Coed Celyn, Gareth took a shortcut down Victoria Road. That’s when they saw the police car, parked right outside Judith’s house. He slowed the bike to a standstill. ‘D’you wanna go in and check?’

‘I dunno – it’s probably their neighbours. Judith said they’re always fighting.’

But just as Gareth was revving the engine to move off again, a policewoman came out of the house, followed by Judith and her dad.

Lana called out, ‘Jude?’

‘It’s my mother,’ she said quietly, her face ashen. ‘She’s in A&E.’

‘Bloody hell!’

‘They think it’s a heart attack, but they’re doing tests.’ Judith’s father was standing a few yards off, looking eager to get away. The policewoman held open the car door. ‘Look, I’ve got to go.’

‘D’you want us to come with you? To the hospital?’ said Lana.

‘Don’t be daft. You’ve got a bloody plane to catch!’ Judith attempted a smile.

It took a moment to sink in, before Lana exclaimed, ‘Jude, we’re not going without you, you silly cow!’

‘I’m not coming, Lana.’ She sounded almost annoyed. ‘How can I?’