And anyway, why shouldn’t she like him? He was almost too good to be true.

After she’d eaten Ellie started prattling away about what she was reading. Mark listened politely but his eyes began to glaze over. Then he said to me, ‘So what do you like to read, Ava?’

‘I don’t read,’ I said. ‘It takes too long.’

Mum looked concerned. ‘But Ava, your English marks are so good—’

‘English is pointless,’ I said.

‘I’m afraid I can’t agree with you there,’ Mark said.

‘Mark studied English,’ Mum said. ‘At university.’

‘Oh yeah?’ I couldn’t help myself; I was curious. How had he made all his money – if he had made it, rather than just coming from a rich family? ‘What do you do now?’

‘I work for a big IT company,’ Mark said. ‘Probably the best way to explain what I do is to say I’m in customer relations. I help people work out what they want and then check they’re happy when they’ve bought it.’

‘Your English degree turned out useful, then,’ I said.

Mark looked stung, and Mum frowned at me. I could feel her willing me to behave. Mark said, ‘You’re doing your GCSEs, aren’t you? What are you studying?’

‘Macbeth, An Inspector Calls, Jane Eyre, a bunch of poems.’

‘What do you think of them?’

I shrugged. ‘What is this, some kind of exam?’

‘Just making conversation,’ Mark said.

‘We’re reading War Horse,’ Ellie piped up.

‘Your mum tells me you’re very ambitious,’ Mark said to me, ignoring Ellie completely. ‘If you want to get ahead, don’t you think you’ll need to be able to express yourself?’

‘I can talk fine, thank you,’ I said. ‘And you shouldn’t just ignore Ellie like that. Maybe you need to learn to listen.’

I tried to swallow a mouthful of tea and nearly choked. Then I pushed back my chair and walked off, and it seemed like everyone in the restaurant was watching me as I went.

Mum was waiting in the ladies’ when I came out of the stall. She said, ‘What was that all about?’

‘What was what all about?’

I started washing my hands. I could have done with running a comb through my hair, but I didn’t look too bad, even in my school uniform, which wasn’t the most flattering get-up: bottle-green V-neck jumper, white shirt, green and black tie, black skirt. We were meant to wear skirts down to our knees, but literally no one did. I had to be careful about bending over in mine, and plenty of other girls wore them even shorter.

Mum sighed. ‘You know what I mean. You biting Mark’s head off like that. In public. He may not be handling this absolutely perfectly, but he’s trying. He’s not particularly used to kids. And right now, he’s absolutely mortified. You need to cut him a bit of slack, OK? You don’t have to be quite so hostile. Or defensive.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Look, I know you haven’t got any particular reason to trust him. Or to trust any man, after what we’ve been through. And I blame myself for that. I should have protected you both better.’