Dad looked at Mum to check if this had upset her.
‘They scattered his ashes in Colorado?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, at Red Rocks Amphitheatre. I thought you knew…’
‘There’s a lot I don’t know.’ She went quiet. ‘Anyway, Dad doesn’t want to gothere.’
Dad was wrinkling his nose.
‘There’re loads of other things to do there,’ I said. ‘I only want a quick visit to the amphitheatre. We could do a road trip.’
Dad was excited again. ‘Why don’t we fly out to Colorado? You two do your pilgrimage to Red Rocks, then we all drive to Los Angeles? I’ve always wanted to do an American road trip.’
Dad is playing golf while we visit Red Rocks. There’s not a cloud in the sky. I can’t wait to see the view.
‘Are you enjoying sixth form?’ She pushes her sunglasses on top of her head and looks over at me.
‘I love it. Studying is much easier when you know what you want to do. Paul says Leeds is the best uni for journalism, so I’m going to work hard to get the grades I need to go there.’
‘He’s a great mentor. I’m so embarrassed about the way I spoke to him.’
‘What will you do when the six months is up on the coffee shop?’ I ask.
‘I’m starting up a business with Magda.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Running art clubs for kids after school and in the holidays. Magda already does one at her son’s old primary school, but we’ve worked on a programme together and I’ve got two slots at your primary school now they’ve fired the head.’
‘Mrs Taylor got fired?’
‘Kay says the governors have intervened following a “safeguarding issue”, whatever that means. She’s on a leave of absence.’
‘I hated her.’
She wrinkles her nose. ‘Me too.’
‘If it works out, we’ll do more at other local schools. Apparently, they’re all desperate for art clubs.’
‘And maybe you’ll get more commissions once you finish the Amsterdam one?’
‘The idea is I’ll work on my art when I’m not helping the kids with theirs.’
‘Yeah, you can steal all their ideas.’
She chuckles and the sat nav pipes up: ‘Take the next exit on the left.’
We’re silent for the last part of the journey and when she pulls up in the car park, her relaxed look has vanished. She has that sad, anxious expression I’m more familiar with.
‘Are you ready?’ I ask.
She can’t speak, she just nods.
I put my hand on her knee.
She takes a deep breath, and we get out of the car.
There are a lot of stairs. We are breathless by the time we reach the top, but the view is awesome. Rows of steps act as the amphitheatre’s seating, leading down to the stage with its craggy rock backdrop. Exercise nuts run up and down the steps; one guy is doing weird squatting jumps from one row to the next despite the early evening heat.