‘Here,’ said Sam, handing Ethan some forms. ‘A banking form so I can pay you direct into your account. The others are parental and health forms.’

‘What for?’ asked Ethan, and read the answer on the forms as Sam spoke.

‘Perk of the job. You get a free tandem skydive. With me.’

Ethan wasn’t given a chance to respond; Sam was gone.

Walking to his bike, he slipped the forms into a pocket. He couldn’t wait to get his mum to sign them.

No sooner had Ethan pushed through the front door of the flat than Jo stopped him in the hall.

‘Dad’s here,’ she told him.

‘So?’ said Ethan. ‘Where’s Mum? I’ve got some forms for her to sign.’ He could hear the TV blaring in the lounge. A loud burp rode over it, followed by a guttural laugh.

‘He’s drunk.’ Ethan could see the warning in Jo’s eyes.

‘You’re not telling me everything, are you?’ he said, forgetting about the forms in a second. ‘What’s he done?’

Jo hesitated, then said, ‘It’s Mum, but she’s OK. He just shook her up a bit. He didn’t hit her. She’s going out to work in a minute.’

Ethan turned and walked down the hall.

‘Ethan,’ Jo called after him. ‘Don’t-’

But he was already in the lounge, kicking over the half-empty lager can that was propping the door open.

He found his dad sprawled on the sofa like a beached whale. The reek of alcohol stung his nose; on the floor a half-eaten kebab rested on greasy paper next to a pile of empty lager cans.

For a few moments Ethan stood there, watching his dad’s fat, pale belly rising and falling, bursting through the buttons of his shirt.

Then his dad turned and looked up at him. ‘What do you want?’

‘What did you do to Mum?’ Ethan’s voice was cold, hard.

‘I just got her to shut up, that’s all. Don’t worry, son. I didn’t hurt the precious little thing.’

Ethan hated the way his dad called him ‘son’. He didn’t want to be reminded. He stood there clenching his fists. He could feel his nails biting into his skin. His dad went back to watching the TV, cracking open another lager.

Ethan walked over to the TV and turned it off.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ his dad shouted, dragging himself up out of the sofa. ‘I was watching that!’ He swayed slightly and took a deep pull from the lager can.

‘I want you out,’ said Ethan. ‘We all do. Take what you want and fuck off.’

His dad leaned closer and Ethan gagged at his breath. It smelled like a pub carpet. ‘You orderin’ me around?’ he demanded. ‘Who are you to order me, eh? I’m your dad, get it?’

He tried to shove Ethan out of the way, heading for the TV, but Ethan stood his ground.

‘You’ve gone too far,’ he said. ‘Hitting Mum, that’s too much. I want you out.’

‘I didn’t hit her. I just shook her a bit, that’s all.’

‘I don’t care,’ said Ethan. ‘I don’t want you laying a hand on her. Just go.’

‘My flat, my rules,’ said his dad. ‘Just who the hell do you think you are? Think you’re something special, is that it? You’re a nothing, Ethan, worse than nothing. Now get out of my way.’

As his dad reached to turn on the TV, Ethan grabbed the greasy collar of his shirt and threw him back onto the sofa.

He landed awkwardly, and roared, ‘Right, you little bastard! Now you’re gonna get it!’

Ethan didn’t move. He was ready for this, had been for years. He clenched his fists.

But then they both heard the scream from the doorway, and turned to see Mum and Jo.

‘Stop it! The pair of you! Just stop it!’ snapped Mum.

‘Mum,’ said Ethan. ‘He-’

‘I’m not interested,’ she said, tears welling up in her eyes. ‘Don’t be like him, Ethan. Don’t let him win.’

Ethan’s dad leaned closer, and laughed. ‘Yeah, Ethan, do what your mammy says, there’s a good little boy.’

Ethan lifted a hand to shove him backwards, but Jo rushed in between them.

‘It won’t help,’ she said. ‘Just leave him be.’

His dad laughed, moved past Jo to switch the TV on again, then slumped back onto the sofa.

Ethan shook his head and walked out of the room. As he passed his mother, she reached out for him, crying now, but he was too wound up to stay in the flat.

‘You’re going to have to throw him out one day, Mum,’ he told her, making for the front door. ‘Count on it.’

Then he was outside, the door shut behind him.

He took a moment to calm down, then walked on. As he did so, he felt something in his pocket and pulled out the forms Sam had given him – the ones he’d wanted his mum to sign so he could do a tandem jump. Too late now. He wasn’t about to go back to the flat for a while, so he’d have to try and catch her in the morning.

Looking at the forms brought Ethan back to himself, made him remember what he was doing with his life now. He wasn’t going to let his dad ruin what he had at FreeFall. So he focused on that, and the fact that soon he might be jumping out of a plane himself. His mind instantly filled with all the faces of the skydivers – the wild look in Johnny’s eyes – and the thought that he might soon look the same.

The thought sent excitement coursing through him, adrenaline flooding his system, making his stomach turn a somersault. It wasn’t the first time.

It wouldn’t be the last.

5

The morning was coming to a close and the sky, which had been clear, was now clouding over. Ethan was helping to move some tandem skydiving rigs into the hangar. They were heavier and more bulky than a normal rig, and with one on his back and one in his arms, he was moving a little awkwardly.

Unable to use his hands thanks to the weight he was carrying in front of him, Ethan turned round to push backwards through the hangar door. But on his way through he backed right into a girl in skydiving kit coming the other way.

‘Hey! Watch it!’ she yelled, jumping out of Ethan’s path. Ethan had too much momentum to stop, and her abrupt shout made him jump and lose his balance. Before he knew it, he’d stumbled through the door, tripped over his own feet and landed on the floor, sprawling like a beetle on its back, legs and arms flailing.

He looked up. The owner of the voice looked down. She was laughing and she was gorgeous.

‘Hi,’ said Ethan, none too impressed with himself for behaving like a complete idiot in front of this girl. She looked as if she was about his own age.

‘Here,’ she said, reaching out a hand and hauling him to his feet with surprising strength.

‘Cheers,’ he said.

‘No worries,’ the girl replied. ‘You just owe me one, that’s all.’ She smiled. ‘I’m Kat. I’m guessing you’re Ethan, right? Sam’s new squaddie?’

‘I’m not in the forces,’ said Ethan, but Kat grinned and cut him off.

‘It’s what we call anyone Sam brings in new to the centre,’ she told him. ‘It’s because he generally has you running around for the first few weeks doing everything he says, like he’s forgotten he’s not actually in the army any more. Has he got you doing press-ups yet?’

Ethan didn’t quite know how to answer that.

‘Joke!’ said Kat, and laughed.

The sound of her laughter bounced around the hangar. Ethan stared. His first guess had been right: definitely his age. She was slightly shorter than him – he guessed about five foot eight – and wore her long blonde hair pulled back in a tight and perfect ponytail. She was dressed in exactly the same outfit he’d seen Johnny wearing when he was jumping. But it looked better on her. A lot better.

‘Don’t speak much, do you?’ said Kat, pulling her hair out of the ponytail and shaking it loose.

‘No, er, sorry,’ said Ethan, trying not to stare, which was pretty difficult. He smiled. ‘You just jumped?’

Kat nodded. ‘Practising some four-way formation stuff with the team.’

‘You jump with Johnny?’ asked Ethan, guessing that they were in the same outfits for a reason.