I lift my hand to his on my shoulder and clutch it, pulling it down, then turn with complete determination and yank him with me. He follows obediently like a child as though he somehow knows I’m in no mood to be questioned or refused. I storm straight for the front hall, hauling him with me at speed before he can protest. I turn at the stair and pull him after me. He’s being compliant, letting me, for the first time in existence, be the one to take charge without argument; a part of me ...