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right direction but I knew I had to keep the chat light. I wanted to show her I could be funny. I racked my brain for a list of conversation topics. I was still sifting through the possibilities when she said, ‘So, I hear your mum died when you were little.’
    â€˜Er  … ’
    â€˜Sorry. That probably wasn’t very sensitive.’
    â€˜No, it’s fine. She died a long time ago. If I’m not over it now  …  you know.’ I was scrabbling for the right response.
    â€˜How did she die?’ she asked.
    â€˜In a car crash,’ I replied. ‘Ruby says driving was never one of Melody’s strong points. Ruby’s my grandma.’
    â€˜You refer to your mother as Melody?’
    â€˜It was her name. Apparently, she hated it.’
    Scarlett nodded. ‘Where did it happen?’
    Most people, when they hear about my mother’s death, were either overly sympathetic or avoided the subject altogether. Scarlett was asking about it as casually as though it was a show on television she had missed.
    â€˜Death Drop Point,’ I said.
    â€˜I don’t know where that is.’
    â€˜It’s down the valley road, just before your stop.’
    â€˜So you go round it every day?’
    â€˜Every school day. Who told you she died, anyway?’
    â€˜One of those girls. I forget which one.’
    I glanced at a table of girls, all pretending they weren’t watching us. This was big. My mother’s death was not the sort of thing people just brought up, which meant that Scarlett must have asked about it.
    â€˜Why did you want to know about it?’ I asked.
    â€˜I’m interested in that sort of thing,’ she said.
    â€˜In death?’
    â€˜In accidents.’
    â€˜You’re interested in accidents?’
    â€˜Yes. Did you know that the word
accident
didn’t always mean something bad? A few hundred years ago it could be used for any event, good or bad. Over the years, though, it changed. Why did it change?’
    â€˜Because most things worth talking about are bad?’ I suggested.
    â€˜Exactly.’
    â€˜How do you know all this stuff?’
    â€˜I told you. It’s something I’m interested in. So what do you know about the accident your mother was involved in?’ she asked. ‘I mean, if you don’t mind talking about it.’
    If it meant she was looking at me, I didn’t mind talking about anything. ‘Melody was upset when she got into the car because she’d been arguing with Ruby. My grandma still hates leaving an argument unsettled because of it.’
    â€˜Do you know what they were arguing about?’
    â€˜No, but they didn’t get on. Ruby says they were always arguing about something. She puts it down to her being artistic and Melody being more sciencey.’
    Scarlett smiled to herself. ‘Sciencey,’ she repeated, amused by the word. She picked up her fork to eat her salad.
    I bit a disappointingly cold chip, feeling weirdly aware of how much noise my mouth made when I ate. I tried to chew quietly but the whole process of eating felt alien to me with Scarlett so close. In an attempt to distance Scarlett from the fact that I had forgotten how to eat, I swallowed the chip and asked, ‘So where did you move from?’
    â€˜Look, Eddie, I’d rather not go into any of that, if you don’t mind,’ she replied.
    It struck me as odd that having just gone over the details surrounding my mother’s death, Scarlett was unwilling to even tell me something as basic that.
    â€˜Is your family in one of those witness protection schemes or something?’ I asked.
    She grinned. ‘No, but I like that. I might use that in the future.’
    â€˜Wherever you came from I’ll bet it was more exciting than Wellcome Valley. Round here people think it’s a big deal when there’s a wall of drying paint to watch.’
    Scarlett put her knife down and