4.20am or thereabouts and I curl up, wrapping the duvet round my neck and shoulder. I get a feeling I’ll be able to go back to sleep.

I’m in the kitchen, trying to fix two small pieces of plastic together to make a kazoo, like some cheap Christmas cracker toy.

And you walk in, and head straight to the bread-bin, like nothing is unusual.

And mum and Molly and Beth do the same, but I know they’re pretending and they know they’re pretending too.  So I pretend too, but while I try to fix the kazoo, I cry, because I know it’s not you.

But I take advantage of the pretence and I kiss your head and smell your hair, like it’s real and like you’re here.

Then I’m woken by my 7am alarm. And I remember, I’m here.

But I don’t cry. Instead I try to hold onto the feeling inside me I had in the dream. The feeling of being there with you. Before, when everything was normal and I was playing with a kazoo.

Then Minnie – the puppy I let you have and that you choose and collected Before you went –  jumps on the bed and I stroke her as she stretches and scratches as the morning begins.

And it starts to summer rain. Big droplets of summer rain. And cars begin their commute, like everyday.

And with the house still and quiet and Trace still asleep, I lie in bed and write this on my phone.

And then, as I get up and make coffee, a pesky Coldplay song starts to play in my head:

Come on in
I’ve gotta tell you what a state I’m in
I’ve gotta tell you in my loudest tones
That I started looking for a warning sign.

When the truth is
I miss you
Yeah the truth is
That I miss you so.
– Warning Sign, Coldplay (2002)

Because I miss you Izzy.