Lies Like Love by Louisa Reid

her flowers – like these ones – or chocolates. Mum kept the thank-you letters sealed up in a special folder, said it kept her going when she felt low.
    ‘Well,’ she said, ‘put them in water for me, Aud, arrange them. And then do us a cuppa, would you, while I watch a bit of telly? I’m knackered.’
    I nodded and arranged the flowers, placing them in the living room where she could see them. She nodded absent-mindedly, checking her face in her compact mirror, tweezering her eyebrows, then turning back to the television and flicking through the channels before checking her mobile phone.
    Time passed. Our fourth week in the Grange Mum was working nights so I had to get Peter up for school on time. So far October had been nothing but rain and the mornings were colder and darker. On Thursday we overslept.
    ‘Pete, come on.’ I pulled him gently out of his dreams. ‘We’ll be late if we don’t hurry.’
    He snuggled deeper under the covers, so I tickled and cajoled until he pulled himself up and crammed down some breakfast. It was almost half eight already. The pills from the new GP knocked me out and it was hard to really wake up. I made myself coffee. Swigged it back, poured another.
    ‘Come on, mate,’ I said. ‘Piggyback.’
    I hitched my brother on to my back and set out acrossthe field towards the route Leo had shown us. It was definitely the quickest way, but we were still going to be late.
    Peter clung to my shoulders.
    ‘Hold on,’ I said. ‘Wrap your legs round, I’m going to try and run.’
    It was more of a hobble: he was heavy and I was slow and the ground was so muddy that I slithered and slipped, but I set my shoulders forward, ploughed on as if I meant to turn up the soil, plant a story of our own whatever the cost. Peter liked it, laughing and cheering me on.
    ‘Go faster, Aud! Come on!’
    I couldn’t. When we got to the embankment he slid off my back while I bent over to catch my breath. It wasn’t just that; it was my ankle too. It always got like this when the weather was bad. Mum said I might need another op on it some time, but I couldn’t face the thought of that.
    ‘I want another piggyback,’ Peter said when I stood up, so I hauled him up again, shifting him higher, and plodded along. He kicked and waggled his legs like I was a horse he could persuade to go faster and I laughed, losing more breath, almost losing my footing. It was pointless. I stopped and tried to gather myself.
    ‘Maybe you should walk, Peter,’
    ‘No way. This is better.’
    ‘Yeah, for you maybe. But you’re getting heavy, mate.’
    ‘But there’s someone coming. Look. Race them.’
    I swung round. Of course. Leo: pelting along like he was in the Olympics in a dark-blue hoody and mud-stained trainers. His cheeks were pink. His eyes bright and amused.
    ‘What are you two up to?’ he said, looking at Peter first,then at me. ‘I saw you in the distance, thought I’d catch up.’ He grabbed a breath. ‘You all right?’
    ‘Yeah, I was just trying to get Peter to school on time. But he’s heavy.’
    ‘No, you’re not, are you?’ Leo said, grabbing Peter and swinging him up on to his shoulders like he weighed nothing. Peter squealed, half in fear, half in delight.
    ‘Come on, then,’ Leo said, and off we went again. I just about kept pace, jogging all the way to town, my heart punching against my ribs.
    We dropped Peter off, just in time. For once he didn’t look round or check over his shoulder to stare at me with wide woebegone eyes. For once he ran along without a murmur and I was glad. Leo checked his watch.
    ‘We’re the ones who’ll be late at this rate,’ he said.
    ‘I know.’
    ‘So, come on.’
    When we got to the road Leo moved to walk beside me, his body between mine and the cars.
    ‘It’s busy,’ he said, ‘the traffic’s ridiculous at this time of day.’ And I understood that he meant to shield me as a gentleman might his lady and a great hot blush began in my chest and