‘Thanks, Angie, but I can’t today,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to go home and get stuck into loads of things. We have all this extra school work to do over the holidays, assignments and pre-reading, and I haven’t even touched it yet. I’ve set aside this afternoon specially…

‘Rats,’ said Angie. ‘That can wait. You always carry on about homework, you’ll have a nervous breakdown if you don’t watch out. Come on, I made the effort to trail all the way out here…East Merken, what a place to have a ballet school…and I haven’t seen you for ages and you’re coming to lunch with Seymour and me at that Italian place near the station. No excuses.’

‘Angie, don’t be so bossy. Mum will be expecting me home for lunch.’

‘No she won’t. Don’t you remember, she goes to her ladies tennis thing on Mondays? Come on, Lynne, you need a good feed, anyhow. You’re getting that skinny you’ll disappear altogether soon.’

Lynne, with a marked lack of enthusiasm, allowed herself to be ushered back to the shopping centre and into the restaurant. Angie wanted to order the most expensive things on the menu, but Lynne protested that she wanted only a glass of lemon squash and a small pizza. While they waited for the food to be brought, Angie produced her gift with a flourish.

‘Ta ra!’ she cried. ‘And wait till you see what’s inside! I just happened to notice it in this shop we passed today and I knew you’d love it. So go on, open it up, what are you holding back for! You’re getting as prissy as Mum, the way you open parcels.’

Lynne’s face didn’t register anything very apparent when she unwrapped the little china shoes. Seymour had a suspicion that he detected fleeting exasperation in her eyes, a distaste for the gift, but if that were true, it was immediately masked.

‘Thanks, it’s great, Angie,’ she said. ‘You shouldn’t have spent your money, though. It’s not even as though it’s my birthday or anything.’

‘Why shouldn’t I? I like buying you presents, especially ballet things. Just think, when you’re famous, you can take those little glass shoes all round the world with you on tours, like a good luck charm. And when I come backstage bursting with pride, I’ll tell people it was me who gave them to you.’

‘Well, I just hope you won’t be wearing those earrings when you come to visit me backstage,’ Lynne said lightly.

‘Why, what’s wrong? I spent ages picking them out and Seymour helped me. Really, don’t you like them? What’s up with them?’