Lifesaving for Beginners

keys. I don’t know why I said that. That’s what Thomas said to me, back when he was trying to change everything. After the accident. The bloody miracle. Why do people say that? What do they think they know?
    ‘I’m a terrible mother,’ I told Thomas.
    He was confused. ‘What do you mean?’
    I changed the tense. The tense made no sense. ‘I mean I’d be a terrible mother. That’s what I mean.’ And that’s what he couldn’t understand.
    How I knew.
    For sure.

 
    Faith says, ‘Have you seen my cigarettes, Milo?’
    I say, ‘No.’ Which is not really a lie. I haven’t seen them. Not today anyway. I put them in the cupboard under the stairs at Mrs Barber’s house. She never goes near that cupboard because of her hip. I don’t think it can bend, even though it’s brand new.
    Faith’s voice is muffled because she is under my bed, which is where I put them the last time. She slides out and sits up.
    I say, ‘There’s chewing gum you can buy. Whenever you want a cigarette, you just chew a piece of gum instead. Damo’s mam chews them and she hardly ever smokes anymore.’
    She says, ‘Milo . . .’
    Her voice is sort of sad but she doesn’t look annoyed, so I ask her, ‘Will I go and stay with Ant and Adrian when you’re not here?’
    Mam always said that she didn’t know how Ant and Adrian would look after themselves in London. They couldn’t even use a tin opener. But you can buy tins now that you can open without a tin opener. I saw them in Damo’s house.
    Faith says, ‘Why wouldn’t I be here?’ She opens the drawer on my bedside locker but there’s nothing in there except my post office book and the football cards that come with the Hubba Bubba. The apple ones are my favourite. They make your tongue green. But not green enough so your mam thinks you’re too sick to go to school. Damo already tried that.
    ‘I don’t know.’
    Faith closes the drawer and looks at me. ‘I’m not going anywhere, Milo.’ She sneezes. She’s allergic to dust and there’s a lot of it around.
    ‘What about the tour?’
    She stands up. Then sits down again. ‘Nothing’s been decided yet.’
    Rob is excited about the tour. He talks about it nearly as much as Damo talks about girls and Sully.
    Rob says, ‘Supporting the Crowns. That’s something, Faith. That’s really something.’
    ‘I know, but . . .’
    ‘And it’s in the summer. So you won’t miss any college.’
    ‘Yes, but what about Milo?’
    I don’t hear what they say after that because Faith closes the door into the kitchen.
    She probably said something like a tour’s no place for a nine-year-old boy. She’s always saying stuff like that. There are loads of places that aren’t suitable for nine-year-old boys, according to Faith. Like Damo’s house when his mam or Imelda aren’t there. Or the bit of the park that’s near the river, where all the squashed beer cans are.
    I say, ‘So, will you try them?’
    Faith says, ‘Try what?’
    ‘The chewing gum.’
    Faith looks out of the window. You can see Damo’s house from my bedroom window. We signal each other with torches when we have batteries.
    She says, ‘Come here.’ I sit on the bed beside her.
    She says, ‘I’m not going anywhere, Milo. And I’m not going to die from cigarettes. I only smoke about seven a day. When I can find them.’ She reaches over and takes my fringe out of my eyes. ‘We have to get that mop cut.’
    Dad says my hair is just like his, except he doesn’t have hair anymore. His head is very shiny and there are freckles all over it.
    I hear the sound of someone walking down the driveway. Then the plop of something through the letterbox. Faith jumps up and runs out of the door and down the stairs.
    I stand at the top of the stairs. Faith grabs the post. Two brown envelopes, which means they’re bills. And another takeaway menu for the curry shop on the high street. She puts the menu in the recycling bin and puts the brown envelopes on the hall table, without opening them.
    She sees me then and says, ‘Milo, make your lunch and go to school.’ She walks down the hallway, towards the kitchen.
    If the lady writes to Faith, she’ll probably have to go and live with her. And then I’ll have to go and stay with Ant and Adrian in their student flat in London and make sure I buy cans you can open without a tin opener. I don’t want to live with Dad. He’s nice and everything, but I’m supposed to be doing my lifesaving exam in the spring. How