I was speechless. What made him think I couldn’t read them right now if I chose? Any words I didn’t understand I could just look up in the dictionary. Did he think I was too stupid? Or did he think that I was too naïve, that there would be things in those books that were too adult and shocking for me? I didn’t need him to protect me, and the sooner he realised that the better. The world was the world, and nobody could shield you from seeing at least a little bit of how awful it could be. Not even Mum.

Ava reached out and brushed her fingertips across the cover of The Mayor of Casterbridge. I could tell she wanted to pick it up and have a good look at it, but she withdrew her hand as if it was too hot to touch and said, ‘These must have been expensive. I don’t think I should accept them.’

Mark looked just as wounded as I’d felt when he’d said at first that the books were for Ava. Give them to me, I screamed at him in my head. I’ll take them. She’s just proud and stiff-necked and ungrateful. But I’m not. I don’t care. I just want those beautiful books, and I would have told Mum you’re the best thing ever if only they had been for me.

He tried to make light of it. ‘You’d be doing me a favour. They were rather heavy, and I really don’t fancy carrying them back down those stairs.’

‘Then you should have thought of that before you brought them here,’ Ava said. ‘Did Mum know you were doing this?’

‘Probably I should have checked with her first. But I can’t see that she would object.’

Ava picked up the books. She had a strange expression on her face, like this was hurting her and was satisfying at the same time. ‘I’ll take them downstairs for you. Ellie, get the door.’

‘Put them back,’ I said.

Both of them turned to stare at me. They looked so shocked, you’d have thought I’d have suddenly spoken up in the voice of a demon. ‘I want them,’ I said. ‘You did say they were for me, too, Mark. And anyway, I’m much keener on reading than Ava is.’

‘That seems fair enough,’ Mark said to Ava. ‘Maybe Ellie will let you borrow them if you change your mind.’

Ava shot me an angry glance – how could you? – but she put the books back down on the table.

‘Whatever,’ she said. Then, to me: ‘You’re going to have to find space for them on your side of the room.’

‘I’ll manage,’ I said. ‘Mark, would you like a coffee or something?’

This was what you were meant to say to visitors; Ava had been neglectful in not offering. Mum might tell her off later, and I could come out of this pretty well, with both the books and the victory of having been a good hostess.