I rummage around in my bag for my phone so I can drop Kieron a message to tell him that I won’t be long. My handset slips from my fingers, falling onto the floor, under my seat. Irritated, I undo my seatbelt and get out of the car. Crouch down and stick my arm under my seat, spidering my fingers until they brush against… not hard plastic but soft material. I pull it out.

Pink.

Pink, very sexy, very lacy, very not mine knickers.

Stunned, I lose my balance, smacking my knees against the pavement.

Whose are they? I hold them up.

No one drives the car except me and Aidan and these aren’t anything to do with him, are they?

Of course not. Things are tense between us right now but that’s natural with everything we’re dealing with.

But, whispers doubt, he’s on his phone more and more. Frequently called out at night.

I can’t think the worst. With our lives in turmoil the last thing he’d have the time or energy for is an affair. I’d know if he was seeing someone. I’d just know.

Wouldn’t I?

I stare at the knickers again – not practical mum pants like mine. Somebody young might wear these.

‘Somebody’s had a good night,’ an old man cackles, nodding at the knickers I am still holding up as he walks past.

And kneeling there in the dirty kerb, littered with cigarette butts and a scrunched-up lager can, I nod that yes, somebody has had a good night.

But it wasn’t me.

Chapter Seven

Connor

Tyler dribbles a scrunched-up Pepsi can across the playground. The metal sound reverberates around Connor’s head along with the one single thought that spins its never-ending loop.

You shouldn’t have come back.

They are not wanted here. And that’s without everyone knowing the full story. After it happened, the boys had been separated but had recited statements full of half-truths and omissions. Connor sick with shock. With shame. Sick at the way they had all cobbled together a matching account so they couldn’t be blamed.

They were to blame.

The other kids know it.

All future trips had been cancelled as well as the end-of-year ball.

His little group of three, once so popular, hadn’t received any invitations over the summer. No swimming in the local lake. No barbecue at the country park. No parties in houses with out-of-town parents, kids left behind to study for their A levels.

The teachers know it.