She didn’t try to sleep, just lay there on top of her bed, her mind full of thoughts that were once impossible; of who it was, who’d had their house scorched, of how much money all this would lead to, of handing in her assignment, because she’d promised she would, and Trish telling her how good it was. She didn’t even take off her wet clothes. This was a night she needed to cling to. She left the bedroom door open, so she’d hear the phone when Justin rang to check if she was alright, or tell her how impressed Simon had been. He didn’t though, and somewhere in the night her excitement turned to dreams. She woke to the musty smell of her not-dried clothes and the feeling of not having slept properly. It was late, because Zinny had slept in and when that happened the house stayed quiet. The shower was still half cold. Some man of Kaz’s had turned the thermostat down, trying to be helpful, and now they couldn’t find it to turn it up again. There was no bread left for toast and Kaz had run out of cigarettes, or hidden them.
