Hope.

chapter 1

Step on a crack, you'll break your mums back.

Step on a line, you'll break your mums spine.

Every day, on my way home from school, I do this weird thing.

As i turn into my street I recite this chant in my head and try to avoid the cracks in the pavement.

Me, superstitious? Never!

Well, okay, a bit.

Because, when I reach the last lamp post before our house, I take a deep breath and fill my lungs with air.

You see, if I can get into the house without taking another breath, Mum wont be there. I turn my key in the lock, lungs bursting. Nothing. No radio 4, no voice on the phone, no dishes clattering in the kitchen.
My breath explodes in a big rush of air. Yes! Mum's not home yet. I have the house to my self.

Don't get me wrong, I don't hate my mum or anything. It just means I have a bit of peace to go on the internet, without Mum breathing down my neck about homework and 'the importance of year 9 in laying the foundation for GCSEs'. That's the problem with having two parents who are teachers. Double trouble. I've got no chance. Actually they're not that bad. Quite cool really, though I'd never admit that to them or anyone elce I dump my bag on the floor and help myself to a Coke from the fridge and a couple of rice cakes. I'm really into them.'Gluten free', it says on the packet. That's Mum's influence. I just like the taste.

The light's flashing on the answerphone. It's a message from Ali. Scatty Ali. My best mate. We're as different as chalk and cheese, but we've been best friends since recception class. She was away today.

'Hi, Jess. how was school? I've been doubled up in agony but I'm okay now. Can i copy your maths? ring me.'

Trust Ali. Ever since she started her periods she has a day off each month with a stomach-ache witch miraculously disappears at 3:30.She gets away with it because she gets her mum to write a note. Dumb mum. I'm just jealous. You have to be on your deathbed in this house before anyone's allowed to take a sicky. Though, don't tell anyone, but actually I like school and don't want to miss it. Especially now I'm going out with Muggs. I woulden't mind the odd day in bed though. Chance'd be a fine thing. You see, my dad's in charge of absences at my school. He's the deputy head and teaches me science as well. I had to do sex education with him in year 7. How embarrassing is that? at least mum has the sence to work in a different school.

The next message is for him, all about money and pensions. boring. Dad's forever trying to work out if he can afford to retire early, though mum and i think this is just a hobby of his. Every so often he flips into stress mode and goes off on how he'll have to keep working till he's sixty-five to support my sister and me through uni. As he's only forty-eight now, that's hardly likely, especially as Carly is nearly nineteen and will be starting bristol in september.

Gran's voice comes on next. My gran's wicked. It's the usual. She's frogotten how to set the video and the over-60's have got salsa class on tonight she dosent want to miss.Can Dad ring her back?

The last one's for mum. Message for mrs Diane bayliss from the Daybreak Centre asking her to attend tomorrow at 2pm.

Wonder what that's about?

Mum teaches life skills and special needs in her school so it's probably something to do with that. I must remember to tell her. She never checks for messages. She's not exactly technically illiterate, but not far from it. For her, checking her mail is exactly that. She comes in and looks to see if there's any post for her and there never is because she leaves the boring brown envelopes for Dad to open. She's got an email address that Carly set up for her before she left so they could keep in touch, but she hardly ever uses it.