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surface. If she didn’t already know about Jack and Peg, there was no way she could handle that now and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if she gave me even the slightest opening.

‘Surprised you even kept anything so… not silky.’

‘Not helping,’ she said. She only had one spoon. She shrugged when I drew it to her attention. ‘He didn’t leave you,’ she said.

‘He didn’t leave you, either.’

Philly turned at the sound of the key in the door. Ahmed stopped short, his satchel over his shoulder. ‘I thought you were still at work, Feely. I left my soccer bag behind the laundry door.’

I looked from one to the other and made myself scarce. In the lounge my fingers itched to mess up the line of candles on her neat sidetable runner. It was more than enough that the mauve in the runner was the exact same shade as the circles on the couch cushions.

‘I’m home early,’ she said to Ahmed, ‘because I’m in the middle of an emotional distress.’ I heard her pick up her keys from the bowl on the kitchen bench. ‘I’ll leave you in peace to get the rest of your stuff.’

He followed her through the lounge, where I was, laughing as she opened the front door. ‘You’re wearing your pyjamas,’ he said.

She looked down and covered herself with her arms as if she were naked. He reached for her hand, but she twisted away and ran into the bedroom. He tried the handle. ‘Feely, open the door.’

‘Go away. Don’t muddy the waters now.’

‘That’s life, Feely. Water is always muddy. You move, you stir up the bottom. Being alive is moving. Open the door.’

‘Go away.’

‘Your head is so hard, Feely.’

I returned Ahmed’s wave on his way to the laundry. The strap of his soccer bag went over his head and shoulder in one graceful move as if it knew its place. His aftershaved sweetness filled the air around him. No wonder Philly went for him. That and the way he built a whole new wardrobe with extra shelves at the passing comment from her that it was getting squishy for her clothes in there. He was the opposite of Dad. As Ahmed headed towards the front door, he twirled his finger around his ear in the way Philly had taught him. I didn’t know whether he thought I was mad for hiding behind the rocker, or that Philly was mad for locking herself away.

‘See you around, Feely. Soon.’

He opened the front door and closed it, staying on my side of the door, in the lounge.

Philly unlocked her bedroom and headed for the table.

‘I knew the ice cream would win,’ said Ahmed, opening his arms wide for her. Philly had her fists up and flung herself at him. He grabbed her and held her tight. ‘I’m not leaving,’ he said. ‘Just moving out.’

‘It’s the same.’

‘You really need to get used to muddy water. I’m just moving out so I can see you more.’

‘It didn’t make sense the first time you said it—and not in the seventeen times since.’

‘But by number forty, you’ll get it. Your head is so full of old facts, it’s hard for any new ones to get in.’

‘Because this is not a fact. It’s…’ She threw her arms up and twisted away from him. ‘Something different.’

‘I’m not your mother. I’m not your father. I am not abandoning you.’

She stopped still. I crawled into the kitchen and hunched against the fridge hoping I could disappear.

‘JJ,’ she called.

I didn’t say a word.

I heard her smack Ahmed. ‘JJ told you, didn’t she?’

‘She gave me a hand to move a few of my things last week.’

‘Bitch!’

‘Actually, I find JJ very helpful girl.’

I screwed up my face and when I opened my eyes there she was, two inches away. ‘What the hell did you think you were doing?’ she asked.

‘He didn’t have a car.’

‘You gave him the Cook’s tour of your version of our past.’

‘Nobody else in this family listens to me.’

‘I don’t want to be that girl. That sad little girl who lost her mother and… you know… the rest.’ She mocked strangled me in the air. ‘It’s my life. I get to tell it my way.’

I locked away all the new things I could say about that life and bit my lip to make sure I didn’t give in to the temptation. ‘You share a bed with him every night. You’d think you could share some head space, too.’

‘That’s the point,’ she said. ‘It’s not in my head. It’s all in yours.’

I bit harder. Held my breath. Reminded myself over and over like a mantra: Keep your mouth shut, don’t break her.

Ahmed appeared around the door. ‘I gotta go. I don’t want to be late for practice,’ he said, pulling out something from his satchel. ‘I’ve bought you a present.’ It was a dreamcatcher as big as the kitchen clock and shot through with reds and pinks and golds. ‘Now that I’m not here all the time—it will keep your nights safe.’

‘It doesn’t match the colour sch—’ she began.

He tapped his foot, his head to the side.

‘Ah, that’s the point,’ she said.

‘See, your brain does take on new facts when you give it a chance. A little bit of chaos is good for the soul.’ He dropped his satchel by the door. ‘I’ll be back to pick this up after soccer, so put a nice coat over those nice pyjamas and we’ll get some pizza. You can come if you’re still here, JJ.’

‘Thanks for deserting me.’ I forced myself to laugh, which came out more like a hiccup, but I had to try to pull the normal back into me so I wouldn’t lose it with Philly.

The door closed on his laugh, which had the lightness of a real one. I slipped away from Philly, grabbed a spoon from the drawer and dashed back to the armchair in the lounge.

She followed me, flopping on to the couch and snatched up the tub before I

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