That evening, padding downstairs in her school tights on her way to examine the sparse contents of the fridge, Natalia could hear the sound of an unfamiliar male visitor in amongst the loud tones of the TV in the living room. Another new boyfriend perhaps; a day of new men everywhere, she mused to herself, not daring to volunteer a glance inside in case they were drunk already.

‘You had a good day, love?’

Her mum had heard her peeling off the yoghurt lid. Sounds sober enough, Natalia thought, as she gave back a ‘yeah!’ and slipped back upstairs. She’d often wished she had a sibling. For now she was happy to have only her diary to talk to. This time her waggling pen rejoiced in her vent to Neary earlier: school as a prison, is that how she really feels? It wouldn’...

Please subscribe to keep reading.