She had very big arms. Very big. Her dad had a potato farm so she probably did quite a bit of heavy lifting. Maybe if I said something nice to her, you know, like, “Ooooh, your arms are a … good … shape,” she might not hurt me.

Cain kept on walking up the hill while she stood there looking at me.

Cain called back, “Beverley, is tha coming wi’ me or are tha going to stand there gabbing all day?”

Beverley went after him but turned back and said in a loud, mean voice, “You and your posh stuckup mates keep your hands off our lads … or else. Think on.”

I was thinking of something to say when Cain whistled and his big black dog came bounding over the hedge with a rabbit in its mouth. Every time I saw Cain something died. Cain gave the dog a brief pat on its head and said, “Good Dog. You’ve got our supper then.”

Beverley caught up to him. She said to Cain, “You treat that dog better’n tha treats me.”

Cain said, “Beverley, the dog can fetch sticks, it can catch rabbits … it dun’t moan on. Can you do that? No.”

He was unbelievable.

I was so shocked at the nose-licking incident I was unable to move. As they disappeared off over the brow of the hill, Rubster came running along, her pigtails going berserk. Matilda was running alongside her and tried to stop when she saw me, but the momentum of her tummy made her go past me and collide with the hedge.

Ruby panted, “Were that Cain with Beverley? Uh-oh, he likes trouble that lad, Beverley’s mum will be on the warpath big-time if she finds out.”

I didn’t say anything to Ruby. What was there to say? “Cain has just licked my face?” I must never think of it again. I must put it out of my mind and think only of my letter from Alex. Alex the Good, who would never lick a girl’s face.

We got to the bus stop just as it came careering round the corner. Hurrah!!!! I was so excited about seeing my chums. The bus juddered to a stop and the door opened and … Jo jumped off! All little and dark and excited. With her dark eyes gleaming. Like a human conker, but with legs and arms. And a head. She hadn’t changed. Still as mad as a hen. A violent hen. She ran and punched Ruby’s arm, and then mine, and then both at the same time. She was yelling, “TALLULAH! THE RUBSTER!”

Vaisey was smoothing her red curls as she came down the steps. She looked at me as she got her rucksack down and smiled a little shy smile. Oh, I had missed that turnyup nose and freckles and that roundy waggly bottom (and the other bits in between). I ran over and hugged her to me, and then she hugged me and Ruby, going “Oh, Lullah, Lullah and little Ruby!!”