I knew he couldn’t speak but there is silence and there is silence, if you get my meaning. I’ll tell you this for nothing: I was born into a frick-fracking nightmare. The only way out was in my head. In my head there are Croca-Colas, Cadillacs. There is planet Juniper and Hector to rescue us all. My bones nearly jumped free from my muscles when I heard a noise in the back garden. The moon man disappeared back to Cellar Street. I washed up the cups, put them away. I don’t think I was breathing when Gramps said, “Let me in.” “Where have you been?” I asked as I opened the back door. His face was all smoky, his shirt torn and burnt. He wasn’t wearing his hat or his coat. No. Miss Phillips was. She stood behind him. She looked as if she had been beaten up pretty badly. “What happened?” Gramps just put the kettle on and made tea. Miss Phillips was shaking. “They set fire to her house. I knew they would,” he said. “It was only a matter of time.” I took a bowl of water to the table.
