Calum's world had been unzipped, and everything poured out onto the floor. He had been left with absolutely nothing to hold onto. The first thing he did upon waking was poke and prod at his stomach and sides, hard, desperately trying to confirm the presence of his vital organs. Mr Armitage had left some clothes at the end of his bed. Some comfy tracksuit bottoms and a shirt. He put the shirt on and went to button it as he fumbled. The buttons were on the opposite side. The shirt was shapely. He cried out sharply -

"Mr Armitage!"

He came running, clattering around again. Calum imagined him in church, in his school library, on a plane, on a boat. God, he didn’t fit anywhere. By the time he reached the room, Calum had pictured him at the beach and felt a gentle calm creep over him.

"Yes, lad," he said as he opened the door and stepped in.

"Is this a girl's shirt?!" he asked.

Mr Armitage laughed softly as he looked at him before turning aside a moment, holding the door-frame, he took three heavy breaths.

"Yes, it was my daughters, it was Bethany’s," he said. "But it definitely doesn't work for you, lad!" he laughed again. "Let me find you a t-shirt."

The two of them had breakfast in near silence. Mr Armitage breathed heavily - bacon and eggs and some more cedar tea. Calum listened as Mr Armitage told him that the police suspected Ella. Calum burst out loudly in protest at the word 'suspect'. Once he’d calmed, he continued letting the boy know that they had not yet heard any reports from people seeing Ella or Conor since he found his father. He let them know that they had teams out looking through the woods to the rear of all their gardens and would have parties onward all the way out onto Dartmoor, the most likely place nearby for someone who doesn't want to be found. Calum simply scoffed and shook his head, resigned. He knew full well they wouldn’t be found unless Ella wanted them to. The two of them returned to the quiet meditation of Mr Armitage’s deep breaths. Then -

"Lad, do you still have that little white journal I gave you yesterday? Can you grab it?"

A boy again. Calum reengaged, ran upstairs, and began rooting through his trouser and coat pockets. Nothing. Then he struck its firm outline against the pouch of his hoody. Running downstairs, he called out -

"Yep! It's here!"

Arriving at the table again, out of breath, he continued -

"You said Ella had given it to you, right?"

"That's right. Tell me - have you ever seen any of these flowers before?"

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