DESPITE THE DULL STREETS passing by beyond the windows, the inside of the truck felt confining. I couldn’t help but wonder how vast a space I’d need for that feeling to go away.
“Dad wanted to be at the station,” Kyle said beside me. “But Andrea told us all to stay put and let her deal with it.”
The truck jolted a little as we stopped for a pedestrian crossing. A woman with a pushchair crossed the road in front of us, a second child walking along with his hand gripped around the pushchair’s bar, his head scarcely as high as the female’s hip. They looked so organised—pristine clothes, behaviour not often seen in young kids, delicate steps that almost glided them over the tarmac—the complete opposite of the noise happening inside my head.
“Still, Dad didn’t want you there alone.” Kyle sli
