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eardrum, she could still hear Dad scream Rose Rose Rose .
    They found out later it was a terrorist attack. Bombs had been planted in fifteen bins all around London and they had been fixed to go off at the same time on September 9th. Three of them didn’t work so only twelve bins exploded, but that was enough to kill sixty two people. Rose was the youngest to die. No one knew who had done it until a group of Muslims posted something on the Internet saying that they had done it in the name of Allah, which is the Muslim word for God and rhymes with something I said a lot when I was seven and a half and wanted to be a magician. Voilà .
    The TV programme made it look like a film. It was a reconstruction of the September 9th bombings. Rose wasn’t in it ’cos they didn’t have Mum or Dad’s permission, but it was interesting to see what happened in the other explosions around the city. One man who died should not have been in London. His train from Euston Station to Manchester Piccadilly had been cancelled due to a signal failure. Rather than wait around for another train, he decided to do a bit of sightseeing in Covent Garden. He was hungry so he bought a sandwich and he put the wrapper in the bin and then he was dead. If the signal hadn’t failed, or if he hadn’t bought a sandwich, or even if he’d eaten it a couple of seconds slower or a couple of seconds faster, then he might not have been putting the wrapper in the bin at the precise moment the bomb exploded. And that made me realise something. If we hadn’t been in Trafalgar Square, or if pigeons didn’t exist, or if Rose had been a good girl instead of a naughty one, then she’d still be alive and my family would be happy.
    That made me feel strange so I changed channels. There was nothing on but adverts. Jas came in with her shoulders all slouched and said Dad’s asleep now and she sounded relieved and I felt bad. I hadn’t helped her at all. I’d just turned the TV up as loud as it would go so I didn’t have to hear the sick splattering the toilet. Jas said He’ll be better tomorrow . I said Want to play Guess The Advert , which is a game I invented where you have to shout out what is being advertised before it says it on the TV. She nodded but then an advert we’d never seen came on so we couldn’t play. It showed a big theatre and a man said Britain’s Biggest Talent Show makes your dreams come true. Ring this number to change your life and I thought how nice it would be to pick up the phone like a grown up and order a different life as if it was a pizza or something. I’d ask for a dad who didn’t drink and a mum who hadn’t left, but I wouldn’t change Jas one little bit.
    You can’t wear that tomorrow Jas said, nodding at my t-shirt. We are sprinkling Rose’s ashes and Dad wants us to wear black . I shouted Coco Pops ’cos a Kellogg’s advert had just come on the TV.

     
    I must have grown since London. All my clothes are too small. I wore black trousers and a black jumper over the top of my Spider-Man t-shirt but you could still see some red and blue around the collar. When Jas saw me, she rolled her eyes, but Dad didn’t notice. He just stared at the urn, which he’d put on the table in the kitchen while we had breakfast. It looked like a giant salt pot but I don’t think Rose would taste that good on chips.
    It took two hours to get to St. Bees and we listened to the same tape we always do on the anniversary. Again and again and again. Play. Stop. Rewind. Play. Stop. Rewind. The tape is going all crackly but you can still hear Mum playing the piano and my sisters singing The Courage To Fly. Your smile lifts my soul into the sky. Your strength gives me the courage to fly. A kite, I soar so grounded yet free. Your love brings out the best in me . They recorded it for Dad’s birthday about three months before Rose died.
    Perfect Dad said on Rose’s solo bit, sounding choked. Voice of an angel . Anyone with ears can hear that Jas is a