The tube train clatters into the station, shouting down the silence and whipping my hair across my face. The current of air makes the boys' fringes do the Mexican wave. They're rooted to the spot, looking at their feet. The doors stop right in front of me and the doors nearest to the boys will take them onto the same carriage. I expect them to move along to another bit of the train, but that would mean acknowledging that they've seen me. Too embarrassing. The doors open. We all get on to an empty carriage. "Mind the gap." That's where I am right now, in the gap. Please mind the gap between the death of your mother and the edge of normal. The doors close. I sit down. Only when the train hiccups into life do I dare check where they are. They're on the seats by the glass panel at the end of the carriage. They're looking at me now, but they're not saying anything. I'm in the middle of the train, another two glass panels of protection away. I won't need it though. They're not going to do the thing with my name. I can feel the pity oozing off them, although they're grudging about it at the same time. Mum dying has spoiled their game. Murray gives me a soppy look, Dylan nods. It feels like being patted on the head by an old relative. The train clangs into the dark of the tunnel. This is the weirdest thing to say but, I actually preferred it when the boys took the piss. Excerpted from Red Ink by Julie Mayhew All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.