‘Expecting trouble?’ he asks.

I turn away, hoping he doesn’t see the distress in my face. Any minute now, he’ll ask about my mum, but I can’t face the prospect of a meaningful conversation. My body feels restless, my muscles tight with pent-up energy, and I pace the room in an effort to contain the emotions fighting inside me. Trying to keep a lid on my feelings is suffocating and suddenly I don’t want to think about my mum, or being here, or anything else.

‘It must be a lot to process, meeting your mum for the first time.’

Ignoring him, I kneel before the dresser and open a drawer. I’m sure I saw a nightdress in here earlier. After a few seconds of rummaging, I pull out a thin white gown that looks like something a Victorian ghost might wear. Suddenly I wish I was at home with my foster parents, eating takeaway pizza in my fleecy pyjamas and watching TV.

Tom blows into his hands, apparently thinking the same thing. ‘I’d sell my soul for central heating right now. I can’t believe I have a duvet in the car and didn’t bring it.’

‘Don’t. I wish I’d stopped at a chemist. I don’t even have a toothbrush.’

‘Ah, there I can help you.’ He reaches into his sports bag and produces a toothbrush still in its packet. ‘I’m always leaving them behind at friends’ places, so I keep some spares.’ He holds out some toothpaste to go with it and I smile.

‘Thanks, you’re a star.’

‘All part of the service.’

I try to take them, but he holds on firmly.

‘What?’ I ask.

He looks at me blankly, his face a picture of innocence. I pull harder but he only tightens his grip, drawing me closer.

‘Come on, are you giving them to me or not?’

He tilts his head and smiles. ‘You can talk to me, you know.’

‘About my dental hygiene?’

He laughs. ‘If you like. Or maybe, I don’t know … how it went with your mum?’

I nod to show I’m giving it some thought, and then stare at the window behind him as if I’ve seen something. The moment he turns around, I snatch the toothpaste and brush out of his hand. He shakes his head as if he can’t believe he allowed himself to be tricked, and I grin in triumph. ‘Right now, I’m off to the bathroom.’

‘Good luck – you’ll need it.’ He pulls a face and I decide not to ask.

I’ve barely turned my back to him when he calls out. ‘Ivy?’

I spin around, bracing myself for another invitation to talk.

‘Yes?’

A small white box hurtles towards me and I catch it mid-air.

‘Don’t forget to floss.’

I huff, wondering how he does it. Somehow he always manages to make me smile, even when I’m doing my best to be annoyed at him.

Taking a lamp from the dresser, I open the door and head across the creaky landing and down the stairs. The wood groans and I curse under my breath. It’s like the house wants to announce my presence to the darkness.