Granddad doesn't turn to acknowledge her and she doesn't say anything to him either. Instead she finds an old coat, spreads it out next to me and sits down. Her eyes slowly take in the whole big wingspan of the swan. ‘Jack said you were making something for school,’ she says. ‘And for Dad.’ She nods. ‘They're beautiful.’ It's not long before Jack comes in, too. His eyes widen when he sees what we've done. ‘You cut them off,’ he says. ‘Or was it Granddad who did it?’ He smirks at me, then sprawls out on the other side of Granddad and starts fiddling with the box of surgical equipment. I wait for Mum to tell me it's time to go. But she just watches quietly. So I help Granddad with the climbing harness, holding it still for him to sew the wings to. His stitches are so small and neat, I can hardly see them. ‘You're good at that,’ I say. ‘Just practice.’ His hands aren't even shaking.
