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you’re gonna work here, you may as well sound like you know what you’re talking about.’
    ‘You tried one?’
    Johnny shook his head. ‘Sam’s got some on order for us though – me and the rest of the team, that is. Want a go?’
    Ethan saw the challenge on Johnny’s face. ‘Yeah, no worries,’ he said. ‘I reckon it’s easy. It’s just people like you want to make the rest of us think it’s difficult so you look cool.’
    ‘But anyone can skydive,’ said Johnny, and Ethan saw a wild spark in his eyes. ‘And it is easy. Just look around you!’
    Ethan did just that. Like every other day he’d been at FreeFall, he was amazed at the variety of people who had all signed up to jump: pensioners, teenagers, mothers . . . even vicars.
    ‘Statistically it’s safer than driving or crossing a road,’ Johnny told him. ‘You’re more likely to get hit by a meteorite than be killed skydiving.’
    Ethan rested his can on the table and looked directly at Johnny, who shrugged.
    ‘OK, so some of that may not be strictly true.’
    ‘That is a surprise.’
    ‘But you’ve just got to try it!’ said Johnny, and Ethan saw that wildness fire up again. ‘It’s the most awesome thing ever. It could make you almost as cool as me! It’s a life-changing thing!’
    ‘Yeah,’ said Ethan, getting up from the table to head back inside, ‘and so’s the money I’d need to do it.’
    At the end of the day Ethan was just making for his bike when a voice called, ‘Ethan? Got a minute?’
    He turned to find Sam striding towards him.
    ‘How’s your first week been?’
    Ethan started to reply and found he couldn’t stop. All he could do was spill out everything he’d done that week – how much he’d enjoyed it, the people he’d met, how he was still amazed by the whole skydiving scene, loved watching people jumping, coming in to land, their faces carrying the biggest smiles. He couldn’t remember being so enthusiastic about anything in his life. It felt good.
    ‘Here,’ said Sam, handing Ethan some forms. ‘A banking form so I can pay you direct into your account. The others are parental and health forms.’
    ‘What for?’ asked Ethan, and read the answer on the forms as Sam spoke.
    ‘Perk of the job. You get a free tandem skydive. With me.’
    Ethan wasn’t given a chance to respond; Sam was gone.
    Walking to his bike, he slipped the forms into a pocket. He couldn’t wait to get his mum to sign them.
    No sooner had Ethan pushed through the front door of the flat than Jo stopped him in the hall.
    ‘Dad’s here,’ she told him.
    ‘So?’ said Ethan. ‘Where’s Mum? I’ve got some forms for her to sign.’ He could hear the TV blaring in the lounge. A loud burp rode over it, followed by a guttural laugh.
    ‘He’s drunk.’ Ethan could see the warning in Jo’s eyes.
    ‘You’re not telling me everything, are you?’ he said, forgetting about the forms in a second. ‘What’s he done?’
    Jo hesitated, then said, ‘It’s Mum, but she’s OK. He just shook her up a bit. He didn’t hit her. She’s going out to work in a minute.’
    Ethan turned and walked down the hall.
    ‘Ethan,’ Jo called after him. ‘Don’t—’
    But he was already in the lounge, kicking over the half-empty lager can that was propping the door open.
    He found his dad sprawled on the sofa like a beached whale. The reek of alcohol stung his nose; on the floor a half-eaten kebab rested on greasy paper next to a pile of empty lager cans.
    For a few moments Ethan stood there, watching his dad’s fat, pale belly rising and falling, bursting through the buttons of his shirt.
    Then his dad turned and looked up at him. ‘What do you want?’
    ‘What did you do to Mum?’ Ethan’s voice was cold, hard.
    ‘I just got her to shut up, that’s all. Don’t worry, son. I didn’t hurt the precious little thing.’
    Ethan hated the way his dad called him ‘son’. He didn’t want to be reminded. He stood there clenching his fists.