The next day Dad drives me up to Dublin. Term starts tomorrow in art college, though Kit has another week before Trinity is open. Both of us are eager to get moved into Dad's cottage in Rathmines as soon as possible. Spike is coming up to join us during the week. He's going to camp out on the living-room sofa until he can move into Halls in Trinity.

"It's good to have you back," Dad says, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. "Place has been quiet without you."

"I thought you'd enjoy the peace." I'm surprised but pleased.

He does a kind of a thing, a grimace like he's going to say something, but then it turns sour in his mouth. I say nothing. That Dad moment didn't last long. I shouldn't be disappointed because I know better. Like Dad could care less whether I'm there or not...

After a pause, he continues, "Did you miss home?"

"What, like your house?"

"It's your house too."

No, it's totally Dad's house, but I'm kinda touched. It's good to be out from under my mother's feet and her rule. Though she treats me like a visitor in London, Mum's the type who keeps closer tabs on her guests than Dad does on his kids. While his lack of investment sometimes bugs me when I'm living with him, it's amazing how much I miss the hands-off approach when I'm stuck with Mum. Like, when I'm away from her, I remember all the amazing things about her, but once we're together again, it doesn't take long for the novelty to wear off before we start to clash. And clashing with my mother never ends well.

"So, how's Helen doing?"

"Fine." Usually that's where conversations about my mother end, but something is off today.

"Business going well for her?"

"Umm yeah, I guess?"

"She has enough money?"

"Yeah, of course, she doesn't need you."

"Hey, take it easy, it's just a friendly enquiry." Dad never makes friendly enquiries about Mum.

"Well, if you really wanted to know, you could try asking her?"

"And she'd tell me she was fine." He has a point though I refuse to acknowledge it.

"Well, she is," I say.

"Good." The rest of the trip passes in silence. When we get to Rathmines, Dad pulls up tight to the front door and helps me unload my stuff.

"Okay, that's it." He dumps the last box of art stuff on the door step. "You coming down next weekend?"

"Probably not."

A look of something, it could be disappointment or relief, flits across his brow. "Okay, good luck tomorrow! Hope it all goes well and give me a holler when you want to come down."

"Sure." I frown as I watch him drive off. What was all that about? Could something be up with Dad? I'm still mulling it over when Kit arrives. Tully unloads all her bags and brings them into the tiny bedroom Spike had last year.

"I'll make tracks and give you two a chance to get settled in," he says kissing her goodbye. "Is it okay if I call around tomorrow?"

"Sure, come whenever you like. I'll be in college all day so you'll have the place to yourselves." Kit doesn't have any classes yet, so I'm hoping they'll take the hint and mostly see each other by day.

"Around eleven?"

"Perfect," Kit smiles up at him.

"So when are they off? Have they got a date yet?" I ask as soon as he's gone. It's not I don't like Tully, but the thought of him and Kit playing full-time lovebirds in the house makes me want to puke.

"Who knows?" Kit sighs in frustration. "They're aiming to leave in October and expect to be back before Christmas."

October is a month away. I can cope with a month, especially since Tully is bound to be busy getting ready for the tour. "Your mother doesn't mind you coming up so soon?" I'm unpacking a box of food Mrs Lawless sent up. It's mostly pasta and tins of tomatoes, as if there were no supermarkets in Dublin.

"No, she thinks it's better to get settled in early. She says I need to have everything sorted out for when I start law."

I roll my eyes and we both laugh. It sounds just like Mrs Lawless, and I'm glad Kit is in the house with me.

"Dad's being weird," I say as I put the pasta away. Something is still niggling at me about Dad. He's not being that different to his usual self, just enough to unsettle me.

"Maybe he misses you," Kit says. "In that big house on his own all summer, without your music blasting through it, or your mess everywhere."

She's joking but she has a point. He mentioned the house being too quiet when I was in London, but it's not like I was there much anyway. Between boarding-school, going to Mum for the holidays and sharing with Spike last year, I've been spending less and less time under Axel's roof.

"This is more permanent," Kit says. I love the way she can read my thoughts, the way we can communicate without speaking. "You've grown up now. Maybe he feels like it's never really going to be your home again."

I consider what she's saying. It's true, I'm eighteen now and I've left school. Of course I'll go back to Axel's house at weekends sometimes, for Christmas, and maybe the odd birthday, but she's right, it's not really my home any more, if it ever was.

"Axel cares more than you think." Her voice is almost a whisper.

That's the bit I'm not so sure about. It's always a mistake to think Axel cares. That's the moment he lets you down. I don't want to dwell on that thought and change the subject. "Perhaps we can make this place nice?"

Living here last year, with Spike, fell flat. Even though I was dying to be independent and free to do my own thing, it all felt like a dead end. He was going to Trinity while I was still stuck in school and had just been dumped by the boyfriend I'd mistakenly thought actually cared. Art college was just a dream on a distant horizon, but this year it's a reality. This year is going to be different!

"Just think, Kit, we never have to go to school again, no more maths or Irish or French ever. Instead, I'll be doing art all day while you're going to be walking under the arch into Trinity every single morning. How cool is that?"

We make pasta for dinner and toast our future with a bottle of wine from the local Spar shop, the two of us, together, in our own place, mismatched chairs squished around the compact kitchen table. We even manage to find a candle and the flickering glow bathes our faces in warm light and hides the mess behind us.

"This is perfect," Kit murmurs. "This is exactly how I've dreamed of it, you and I together in this house, Spike near at hand and Tully in Dublin. At least law doesn't start straight away and Tully's not leaving for a month, so there's time to enjoy all this." A shadow passes over her face. "It's like a honeymoon. If only it could last a bit longer!"

"Law won't be that bad, Kit! You've always done really well at school, you'll be fine. And it will help pass the time while Tully is away. Before you know it he'll be home for Christmas."

"You don't get it," she stares at me in frustration through the candle light, "I'm so tired of studying stuff that doesn't even interest me. All I ever seem to do is pass time, while everyone else is living their lives around me, and I've just signed up for four more years of it. You know this summer it felt like you were all in London moving on, while I was still stuck at home in Drimshanra."

Kit always thinks I'm having a wild time in London and I can't help feeling a little guilty because it's an image I've deliberately let her build up in her head. It can't have been much fun for her, stuck under Mrs Lawless' beady eye, nothing more exciting going on than waiting for the postman, hoping for a letter from Tully. For an instant, I'm tempted to tell her the truth about how my mother makes me feel more like a guest than a daughter, but then I realise she's right. Whatever about me and Spike, Tully's career exploded over the summer in London.

"London was only temporary." This is our night for celebration and I'm not going to let her bring the mood down. "We're all back now. And we're here to stay!"

"Yes!" She breaks into a wide smile as we clink glasses. "Together again!"

And, in that moment, we both believe it will last.