We wait at the school gates.
Fidget clutches her school bag close to her chest with a knuckle-whitening grip, her back pushing into my legs.
She watches anxiously as the older children plough through the crowd – some riding scooters, others on bikes, lots running – all shouting and laughing. Parents greet each other with loud ‘good mornings’ hailed across the growing crowd. Mums, dads, grandparents bonded by the school run, talk, shout and laugh.
Fidget squirms closer. My hands squeeze her shoulders gently, reassuringly. She looks up and I give her a smile. She smiles back.
The school gates open.