Dad came into Ethan’s cabin the next morning. “Up you get. I’ve got something to show you,” he said.

They took the van and drove east down the canal, but Dad didn’t say where they were going. They parked in the little lane that led to No Man’s Land. Ethan followed Dad up the path towards the canal. That’s when Ethan knew. Dad was taking him back. Back to the tree house. And his heart began to race with excitement.

Ethan didn’t notice at first, not till they went around the side of the tree house to the front. Then the trees and the leaves seemed to swirl around him, but in a nice magical way, not a scary, bad-dream way, because the tree house had been mended. There weren’t any planks missing from the floor. The roof was complete again now.

“What do you think?” asked Dad, grinning proudly.

Ethan smiled his big smile. He couldn’t stop staring up at the tree house. It looked strong, sturdy, like it could survive anything. It didn’t matter that the wood was a patchwork of different colours. Dad must have worked on it between jobs over the last couple of days.

Dad nodded to the ladder. “Let’s go up.”

As Ethan climbed, Dad held the ladder, even though it wasn’t shaking. They sat on the floor and dangled their legs over the side. Ethan’s chest felt fuzzy, even more than before, when they used to visit the tree house. As if he was swinging in the highest swing in the world, like a hundred swallows were bursting out of his chest.

Dad took two pieces of chocolate cake from his pocket. He gave a piece to Ethan; then he unscrewed the flask and poured.

“Here,” he said. Ethan sipped. It was hot chocolate. Dad must have made it especially for him.

Dad was quiet as they looked out over the fields and the lanes, to their end of the pound. Then he reached into his bag and brought out the mended tree-house sign.

“Mum found the sign,” he said. “You came back here.”

Ethan nodded. Dad wasn’t cross that he’d come all the way here by himself.

Dad brought out a hammer and a nail. He held the sign against the outside of the tree house and hammered it in place.

ETHAN’S HOUSE

“You must have missed coming here,” he said.

Ethan nodded.

Dad turned to him. “Is that why you stopped talking?” Dad spoke quietly, like the words might cut his mouth. “Because you thought I hurt that boy?”

Ethan looked at Dad. He didn’t nod. He didn’t want to upset him. But Dad knew it anyway.

“I guess it must have been,” Dad said softly. “We couldn’t work out why. We wondered if it was because of Maisie. We took you to get help, but you didn’t want to talk.”

Ethan thought back to the nice lady. The games and songs she tried to play to get him to speak. But he hadn’t been able to. He must have blocked Dad and the boy out on purpose, because he was so scared of what he’d seen. He must have been too scared to speak in case he told anyone and got Dad in trouble.

“We can get help again if you want to. It might be easier to sort out now.”

Ethan nodded.

Dad put his arm around Ethan’s shoulder and hugged him close.

Ethan could feel the tears pressing against the back of his eyes, trying to escape. He could hear Dad’s heart beating and feel his warm breath on his neck.

Him and Dad back at the tree house.

Ethan’s shoulders shook as he started to cry. Happy tears.

Then the tears overflowed, down his face, and on to Dad’s coat. And Dad hugged him and hugged him and didn’t let go.