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and went to the box of recipe books. They were sturdy and, unlike the birds, they had barely been scuffed in the fall. She needed to keep these to help her cook for the children. That was only sensible. She got one of Rachel’s green stickers and put it on the box. Keep.

There were some loose cookbooks too, so she labelled those. She opened a box and found it to be full of bottles of hand cream. She squeezed a small amount on to her hand and rubbed the silky lotion into her skin. The scent of honeysuckles flooded the room. She’d use the hand cream, it would be silly to throw it away. She put a green sticker on the box.

The next box was a miscellany. Key rings, a few vases just big enough for a handful of honeysuckle. A large number of clocks.

Amy took out a little travel clock. It was plain black and it had a case attached that could keep it safe or be used as a stand. It wasn’t particularly nice, and didn’t seem to work. Amy put a red sticker on the clock, then felt sick and ripped it off again. She put the clock back in the box.

This was harder than she thought. Even now.

Next, Amy took out a handful of key rings. One was a pretty amethyst with a metal hoop looped through it. She popped it into her pocket, planning to add it to her keys. She found another, branded Nottingham Forest Football Club. She must have picked it up in a charity shop for Mr Trapper and forgotten to give it to him. She put that in her pocket as well. She’d take it to the office on Monday for him. He’d been very amenable when she’d asked to go down to three days a week to give her time to paint again.

Following that train of thought, Amy went back to her hand-cream box and selected a small tube of cream scented with jasmine. It was unopened and Carthika would appreciate it. She put it in her pocket too, feeling it bulge reassuringly. She’d let Chantel and Rachel take a few tubes too, to thank them for their help.

The birds next, decided Amy. Perhaps she didn’t need quite so many. But which ones to give away?

Not the kingfisher, certainly. Amy put a green sticker on that one. Not the shell owl. And not the gorgeous parakeet, nor the friendly sparrows or the jay or the canaries. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to any of them.

Amy went to get another green sticker and discovered she only had one left.

Amy went back into the hallway. ‘I need more stickers,’ she told Rachel.

Rachel frowned at her. ‘You’ve got loads,’ she said, looking at the pages in Amy’s hands.

‘I need more green ones,’ said Amy.

Rachel sighed. ‘This is going to be a long day,’ she said. ‘I’ll go and find some more.’

‘Where are my bottles?’ asked Amy.

‘Recycling,’ said Rachel. ‘You agreed, remember?’

‘But I need to check them first,’ said Amy, feeling panic sneak up inside her.

‘They are in the front,’ said Rachel with another sigh. ‘Be my guest.’

Amy went into the front garden and saw Chantel and Richard sitting on the wall next to each other, looking out at the road. Chantel had a cigarette in hand and they seemed to have found a comfortable silence that Amy didn’t like. Amy went to the bottles and began to bring them back indoors.

‘Amy!’ From nowhere, Charles came hurtling towards her. ‘I’m playing hide and seek with Daniel,’ he said. ‘It’s a little kids’ game, and I’m too grown-up for it really, but my dad said if we play outside he has to watch too, to make sure that Daniel doesn’t hide anywhere dangerous while I have my eyes closed.’

Amy smiled at Richard. That’s what he was doing.

He lowered his voice to an exaggerated whisper. ‘We can all see Daniel behind that pot,’ he said, pointing to the back of Daniel’s head, clearly visible. ‘But I’m pretending to look for him anyway.’

‘That is kind of you,’ said Amy.

‘I know,’ replied Charles, with a smile. ‘How’s your clear-out going?’ he asked. ‘Is there room for us to play in your house now? We could bring Mickey over for a visit?’

‘Not yet,’ said Richard, getting up and putting a hand on Amy’s shoulder. ‘I told you it takes time.’

‘I get it,’ said Charles. ‘I wouldn’t want to get rid of any of my diggers. Or my fire engines.’

‘You’ll grow out of them one day,’ said Richard.

‘Never,’ declared Charles. ‘When I’m big enough, I’ll be a digger driver and a firefighter and play with big machines all day long.’ He peered back into Amy’s house then looked up at her. ‘Maybe then I wouldn’t need to keep all the toys,’ he said. ‘Because I could drive them in real life.’

Amy nodded. Real life needed space to grow.

‘I need to get back to work,’ she said.

Amy went back into her house and through to the kitchen. The towers of mugs loomed tall. Their colours were beautiful, but did she really need so many? She wouldn’t just be drinking tea in her own house any more. She had friends she’d visit.

Slowly, Amy started to deconstruct one of the towers. One by one, she put the mugs in an empty box and firmly stuck on a yellow sticker for the charity shop. She’d keep a few, she decided. Six.

Maybe ten.

But no more.

She took hold of the yellow mug that she’d rescued when Nina and Richard had moved in. She ran her finger down the crack. Not even the charity shop would want this, she realised. Perhaps she didn’t either. Amy peeled a red sticker from her sheet. She had to let go of the broken things in her life. Some of them at least. Gently, she affixed the sticker to the mug.

Going back into the living room, she was struck by the scale of what she still had to accomplish. Box

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