Pictures of Lily

through. Olivia’s in the living room if you want to check her over for yourself.’
    I lead the way then turn back to pass him the plate. ‘I brought you this,’ I mutter.
    ‘Excellent, thanks. And I got you this.’ He reaches behind himself to take a red-and-white striped parcel from the top of a cabinet. He hands it over, grinning. I didn’t buy him anything in the end. I was worried it would make my feelings for him appear too obvious.
    ‘What is it?’ I ask. My heart is still in my throat. I feel like I could choke to death on it.
    ‘Open it and see.’ His smile falls from his face once more at my appearance. ‘Are you okay?’ he asks again.
    I sit on the sofa in a daze and carefully open the present, not wanting to tear the wrapping paper for who-knows-what reason. Six rolls of film spill out. My eyes fill with tears and my face crumbles.
    ‘Lily, what’s wrong?’ he asks in horror, taking a seat next to me and putting his warm hand on my arm. I shrug him off and immediately regret it. Burying my head in my hands I try so hard not to sob. I desperately want to know the truth about whoever this Charlotte person is, but I just don’t know how to ask, especially not now that he’s seen my reaction. I feel like such a stupid, silly little girl.
    ‘Please tell me,’ he urges quietly.
    I shake my head violently from side to side, wanting him to disappear for a few minutes so I can get my act together. I so wish I had my licence so I could drive far, far away from here.
    ‘Look, she’s okay. She’s over there.’
    I glance up to follow his extended finger in the direction of Olivia, snuggled up and asleep in a box by the heater. It may be hot outside, but it’s still cool within these thick stone walls. I nod.
    ‘That’s not it though, is it? Is it your dad? Kay? Olivia? Nothing’s happened to the baby, has it?’
    ‘No, no, no.’ I avoid his gaze. ‘Honestly, I don’t want to talk about it.’
    ‘I’ve never seen you like this. Is it Dan? Shannon?’
    As if I give a shit about my ex-boyfriend and one-time best friend now. ‘No.’
    ‘Do you want a drink?’ he asks hopefully.
    Actually, all I really want is for him to take me home again so I can cry my heart out in the peace and quiet of my own bedroom. But that would be even more inexplicable, so I reply, ‘Yes, please.’
    ‘Good.’ He stands up, looking relieved. ‘Coke? Lemonade?’
    ‘Lemonade, please.’
    I cast my gaze around the room when he’s gone, looking for anything that would give me a clue about this absent girlfriend. There are no photos of her that I can see, although I suppose there could be one lurking in his bedroom. I wonder what she looks like. Wait, could she be dead? My heart lifts and I know how awful it is to have that reaction, but maybe that’s what Michael meant about him being, what did he say? ‘A bit lonely.’ Hmm. Not exactly the phrasing you’d use to describe someone who’s lost his partner to the Other Side. I wonder what she looks like . . .
    Ben returns, his expression grave. ‘Nothing’s happened with Josh, has it?’ I take my drink from him and almost spill it.
    ‘Hell, no!’
    ‘Oh, okay. Good.’ He laughs awkwardly.
    ‘Oh, Ben.’ I sigh and turn to put my glass on a side-table, feeling a bit more like my old self. ‘Pass me a coaster, would you?’ He takes one from the table at his side of the sofa and hands it over. I turn to face him. He’s still looking confused and I don’t know what comes over me, but I meet his eyes steadily and on impulse ask him outright.
    ‘Who’s Charlotte?’
    ‘Charlotte?’ He shifts uncomfortably. ‘She’s . . . er . . . she’s my girlfriend.’
    I don’t know why he finds it so hard to say this out loud, but he’s clearly ill at ease.
    ‘Where is she?’
    ‘England,’ he answers, looking down at his mug and not meeting my eyes.
    ‘England? Where in England?’
    ‘London.’
    I find myself laughing bitterly. ‘You’ve got a girlfriend – or is it fiancée – who lives in the city I’ve just left, and you never thought to tell me?’
    ‘I don’t know, we haven’t really talked about stuff like that.’
    ‘Are you kidding me?’ I cry. ‘I told you how my boyfriend shagged my best friend right in front of me and you didn’t even think to mention you have a girlfriend ? Why not?’
    I’m speaking to him as if I’m his equal. With confidence and as if I deserve these answers. The fact that I’m a sixteen-year-old