Once upon a time, Mum had made clop-clopping noises, sounding just like a real horse, or she’d held her hands in front of her as though she was holding reins, and bounced up and down in her seat at the breakfast table, making us laugh. But that didn’t happen anymore. Mum was hardly ever at the breakfast table these days. ‘I wish they’d never decided I needed a brother. Who needs brothers anyway? They’re smelly and noisy and when they get bigger they pull your hair and break your best things.’ But Dad didn’t say anything, because he was busy taking Mum a cup of tea and some dry crackers. He didn’t even offer to brush my hair which was in a real tangle – in the end I gave up and just put it in a pony tail with the knots all at the bottom. It would have to do. We were late again. I’d have to go to the office for a pass. I hated that. I even hated driving to school – I didn’t mind the walk when it was sunny. Mum and I would talk about things. ‘I wish things were back to normal,’ I said, buckling up the seat belt.
