In the changing rooms, Sophie checked the other girls’ chests for signs of growth. In some lights she thought she could see Poppy Ohlson’s nipples protruding more than usual, but this was a minute change, visible only under the keenest scrutiny. Sophie kept her own body hidden, feeling its difference more shamefully than ever. The worms were a distant nightmare now. Her mother had taken her to see the GP, who admonished her for not washing her hands before meals and prescribed a course of mebendazole. But her period was only a deferred sentence, and in the meantime, her breasts were getting bigger. Every morning in chapel she prayed to a God she wasn’t quite sure she believed in to take them away, to restore her chest to its old bony flatness.

She had come to dread bathtime with her siblings. It seemed wrong to be taking her clothes off in front of James, and Harriet was openly, cruelly curious about the now very visible changes to her big sister’s body, pushing and flicking at Sophie’s heat-softened nipples whenever Mrs Witrand left the room. Sophie made no effort to retaliate or even resist: she wanted to pretend that the breasts weren’t there, and objecting to Harriet’s antics would mean admitting to the difference between their bodies. So bathtimes continued communal, and Harriet continued to poke and pinch, and Sophie submitted to this punishment in silence, feeling that it was, in a way, her due.

* * *

The light began to fade earlier in the evenings. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, after the extra Greek class, Callum found himself cycling back in near-darkness, arriving home as late as 8.30 or 9 p.m. Then there would be marking to do, and, at the weekends, school football matches that could take up a whole Saturday afternoon and sometimes the best part of the evening. This all meant that he had very little time left to spend with Tamsin, who seemed to have changed her mind about moving in with him. She hadn’t categorically said that she wouldn’t, but she refused to name a date when Callum suggested they tell Leah about their plans. Instead of taking the part-time Associated Board job as they had discussed, she was now working nearly full-time for Amad Health, giving recitals in their care homes for the elderly. ‘You’re not doing this because of the money, are you?’ Callum ventured to ask her, just once. Her reply was ready and indignant. ‘It’s not about you and the flat. It’s not even about me. This is about other people, about using my music to do something for other people at last.’