She always told him off for whistling in the house. She never even liked the way he sang.

19 October 1977

Karen

Dad’s music seeping in from the hallway – all that twangy cowboy crap and Mum singing along under her breath even though she claims she doesn’t like it either. She’s whisking the Yorkshire pudding mix in the big plastic jug. The smell of the beef cooking in the oven makes my stomach hurt. All my school books spread out across the kitchen table. She’ll be asking me to put them away anytime now so she can put the cutlery out for lunch.

I can’t concentrate. I’m too hungry. Stare down at the blank page and suck the end of my pencil. Lead poisoning might buy me a day off school and it’d be worth it just to get out of woodwork. My mind is a blank. I can’t remember what Mr Reynolds said about the design brief. The sketches are due in for tomorrow and I’ve got nothing. I write my name over and over. Karen Whittaker. K Whittaker. K W. If I married Simon Williams I wouldn’t have to change my initials. Claire would roll her eyes. She wouldn’t be seen dead with a boy from our year. Not even Simon. ‘He’s well fit,’ she said once, ‘but he knows it. And you should never trust a boy with longer eyelashes than you.’

If I hadn’t listened to Claire I wouldn’t be in this mess. But we were too busy laughing at Mr Reynolds. The way he talks, how he can’t pronounce his R’s at all. And Claire with that look on her face. The kind that means she’s going to get me into trouble. She got up and sneaked to the back of the classroom while he was writing on the board. Someone cleared their throat but he was clueless. She landed back in her seat just as he turned round. Chalk-dust on his chin. He looked down at the textbook, turned back and started writing again. Claire passed me something under the desk. A smooth wooden handle.

‘Careful, it’s heavy,’ she said.

I looked down. Some kind of wood file. Long and thin, the metal plate like a mega cheese grater. I rested it on my knee and she passed me another one.

‘Rasps,’ she said, ‘I dare you.’