‘I wouldn’t have to do that if you’d let me hang out in the pool for a bit longer instead of dragging me off for cod and chips.’

‘We’re meant to be spending time together!’

‘Don’t shout.’

‘What, because I’m embarrassing you in front of your serious long-term boyfriend?’

‘What is wrong with you?’ Maisie looks tearfully furious now, determined not to show it.

‘You’re being reckless.’

‘I’ve got my swimming badges. I’m OK to be in a pool.’

‘So why were you so keen to stay in?’

‘God, do I have to spell it out?’

‘Yes. Go on.’

‘I think he’s hot.’

Becky crosses her arms across her chest. ‘And so what’s your plan?’

‘I haven’t got a masterplan, Mum. Not everyone’s as neurotic as you.’

‘Any mum would find it worrying you’re trying to get rid of us to be with some boy who could be anyone.’

‘He’s staying here with his parents as well. He has a name and everything.’

‘It’s not safe.’

Adam returns with an overly bright cocktail. ‘Aloha!’ he says, holding it up in a toast. Then, reading the atmosphere, asks Maisie, ‘What’s up?’

‘Mum’s being Mum.’

‘I told her she couldn’t ditch dinner to hang out with a stranger,’ says Becky, matter-of-fact.

‘Can we not do this here?’ hisses Maisie, terribly aware that her boy is swimming short lengths behind her back.

‘Back to the rooms?’ Adam offers, all neutrality.

‘Why do you always do this?’ Maisie says. Now that they are dressed, and behind the solid door of Maisie and Becky’s room, voices are raised, all the way up to how they’re feeling, which is very loud indeed.

‘I don’t do anything,’ Becky shouts. ‘Do what?’

‘Stop me from doing anything! You don’t trust me to make any decisions. What have I ever done to make you not trust me? I don’t smoke crack. I’m not whoring myself. I hardly leave the house without your written permission! Why don’t you trust me?’

‘I do.’

‘You don’t! What the fuck happened to make you like this?’

Becky takes a deep breath. ‘I trust you, of course I trust you,’ she says. ‘It’s boys your age I don’t trust. They get drunk, they get out of control, they don’t think.’

‘You can’t control everyone’s behaviour.’

‘It’s my job to protect you.’ For a moment Becky closes her eyes and in the darkness chides herself. She hadn’t even been able to protect herself.

‘I’m sixteen tomorrow and then your job is over. I can legally do what the fuck I like.’

Becky glares at her. ‘Not while you’re under my roof!’

‘Then I’ll find another roof! It’ll be better than living in Shawcross prison!’