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The Things That Matter
Andrea Michael
One More Chapter
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2021
Copyright © Andrea Michael 2021
Cover design by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2021
Cover photographs © Adrian Muttitt / Arcangel Images (main image) and Shutterstock.com (flowers)
Andrea Michael asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780008370237
Ebook Edition © May 2021 ISBN: 9780008370220
Version: 2021-04-23
Content notice: miscarriage
Contents
For my husband:
Above all else, adventures.
Damaged people love you like you are a crime scene before a crime has even been committed.
They keep their running shoes beside their souls every night, one eye open in case things change whilst they sleep.
— Nikita Gill
Prologue
2006
Aylesbury Prison and Young Offenders Institute
He looks different.
That’s all I can think as I see him walk out of the prison and into the fresh air. His dark brown hair is cut short, and he’s muscled, like he’s a troubled American teen from the movies, returning from military school.
He holds himself differently, taking up space. Squared shoulders, like he’s daring anyone to bump into him or look at him the wrong way.
The Dan I knew before was lithe, his sixteen-year-old body showing only the faintest muscle beneath pale skin. Now, even though it’s only been a few months, he looks… he looks like a man.
It’s happened so gradually, I shouldn’t be shocked. But it’s different seeing him out here in the world.
I’ve been visiting every week since he was sent here, bunking off lessons whenever I needed to. School have been pretty understanding about ‘everything that went on’ and if I’ve learnt anything from my mother, it’s that you’ve got to take advantage of that kindness when it comes along. People don’t give it often. It’s reserved for when something really bad happens.
The journey from Luton took me about an hour and a half each way; three buses and a walk either end. But I didn’t mind. All I wanted to do was see him. To smile so he’d know I was okay, to tell him funny stories and keep his mind off everything. To give him a countdown of the days until he was out and back to me again.
I put every last bit of energy I had into making him happy, or as happy as he could be in there. I counted his smiles on each visit, collecting them like it was a video game, a little ‘ding’ in my head when I made one appear.
Dan was trying hard for me too, I knew. He didn’t ask me about the foster home they’d tried to put me in after everything happened, because there was nothing he could do. When I told him Sharon next door had agreed to take me in, at least until I could finish my GCSEs, he breathed a sigh of relief and his smile was like sunshine.
Three months. It didn’t seem that much, not really. But for a nice boy from a nice family, who’d done nothing wrong, three months seemed like a lifetime. Especially when the nice family didn’t want to know Dan after everything happened – they couldn’t handle the embarrassment.
People like us don’t do things like that, Daniel.