Nicole studied the gross hairs stuck in the carpet. At least they took her mind off her sore head. Nicole was sure other carpets didn’t look like this. Well, not the ones at school anyway. When they had reading time with Mrs Molesy, they all sat on the blue classroom carpet. It smelled warm and kind of burnt, but it was clean. Not like at home. The carpet at home never got cleaned. It was sticky and smelled of beer and wee.

As she gazed down at the tangled-hair carpet in her and Callum’s bedroom, she tried not to wince or cry out. That only made Mummy angry. The hairbrush had caught a knot, and as Mummy yanked the hairbrush down, a bolt of pain flashed across Nicole’s scalp with such intensity, she couldn’t help gasping.

‘If you kept still, it wouldn’t hurt, you silly cow.’ Mummy tugged the brush through again. The knot had thinned but it was still enough to send splinters of pain firing across Nicole’s head.

Once, Nicole had suggested that she might now be old enough to brush her own hair. That had earned her a hard slap across the face. Mummy had said she was a selfish bitch. That it was the one thing she liked to do – to brush her daughter’s hair. Then, Mummy had grabbed Nicole by her hair, dragged her across the room and shoved her hard against the wall. Nicole had kept her mouth shut after that. She could put up with a bit of hair brushing if it kept Mummy happy.

A cry from the lounge made Nicole’s stomach fall away. It was Callum. He still didn’t understand about Mummy, about how important it was not to cry or make a fuss.

‘What the fuck does that little shit want now?’ The hairbrush stilled.

‘Want me to go and see?’ Nicole asked, a tremor in her voice.

Mummy gave a last vicious yank of the brush and then threw it on the floor. ‘Go on, then. Piss off. You can both go out. I’ve had enough of you two today. You do my fuckin’ head in. I don’t know why I bother. Your hair still looks like a bog brush. You must get it from your useless twat of a dad. His mum had shitty hair, too.’

Nicole kept her eyes down, slid off the bed and crept into the lounge. Callum was sitting on the floor crying and stabbing at the buttons of the remote control. He’d somehow accidentally switched channels and couldn’t get his programme back.

‘You made her cross, Cal, you stupid idiot,’ she hissed. ‘We have to go out in the car now.’

‘Goin’ in the car, Nic?’ Callum’s tear-streaked face brightened.

‘Yes,’ she whispered, a scowl tugging down the corners of her mouth. ‘You made Mummy angry again. It’s your fault.’

Nicole grabbed his pudgy hand and dragged him over to the sliding doors which opened out onto a tiny balcony overlooking the main road. Only six of the flats had balconies. There was just enough room for a folding chair and also for Callum’s big plastic ride-in car that Daddy had brought home one day last year. He’d got it from the dump where someone had chucked it out. The yellow and red plastic was a bit faded. Apart from that it was okay. It stayed out on the balcony. It would’ve been great if he could pedal it around on the grass, but they weren’t allowed. Mummy said she wasn’t about to go lugging it down three flights of frigging stairs. It didn’t matter. It was somewhere for them to go when Mummy got shouty.

Callum climbed into the driver’s seat and took hold of the plastic steering wheel. Nicole closed the sliding doors to the lounge and squeezed herself into the passenger side of the car. The seat was wet and she felt the water seep through her dress, onto the backs of her legs. She was getting so tall now, she had to sit stooped over. Her sixth birthday was coming up, she hoped that didn’t mean she was going to grow even taller. What would she do when she couldn’t fit in the car any more?

‘Where we goin’ today, Nic?’

‘Going to Disney World, stupid.’

‘Yeah! Dinsley Wowuld!’

Nicole scowled, and glanced back into the lounge where her mother had plonked herself on the sofa, beer in one hand, remote in the other. It was cold outside and she wished she’d remembered to bring a jumper. Never mind, at least Mummy had forgotten about brushing her hair.