I stared at the open door until Scout appeared. She hovered there uncertainly for a moment, wearing her school uniform but matched with her favourite trainers, the ones with the lights in the heels that flashed when she moved. They sparkled green and blue in the hospital gloom. She walked to the bed where I was sitting as the Murphys piled shyly into the room behind her. They were all there. Mrs Murphy and Big Mikey. Little Mikey in his work clothes leading Shavon and Damon by the hand. Siobhan holding Baby Mikey. My eyes stung with relief and gratitude. What the hell would I do without them? Then Scout was by my side, not quite touching me, but leaning in, a five-year-old girl with something urgent to say. I leaned towards her. ‘I don’t want you to get hurt any more, OK?’ she whispered. ‘Is it a deal?’ My heart filled up with guilt and shame and a terrible helplessness. I believe it was shame more than anything. Scout’s words choked my throat and stung my eyes and for long moments I could not speak.
