Patricia refused to be drawn on where we would be going or why exactly she wanted Fizzy to be part of it, but my nerves about letting Patricia have direct access to Fizzy were crowded out by my excitement that, at last, I would have the opportunity to drive Fizzy somewhere, albeit with Patricia in tow.

“I’ve always wanted to go on a mystery outing!” she said when I, slightly awkwardly, delivered the invitation.

“Well, it’s a mystery to me too,” I reminded her.

“Even better.”

*

On the day of the outing, the makeshift signage as we approached our destination gave Patricia away: she was taking us to a funfair. Fizzy grasped my hand, pushed her nose against the window and said, “Oh, my goodness me, yes! I love a fair!”

When we arrived, Patricia handed us a long strip of ride tokens and told us to make sure we used at least half of them on the bumper cars. She explained her reasoning – something about relaxing, practising controlling a vehicle in a risk-free environment – but declared herself far too old and prone to back issues to take part, which was why Fizzy’s attendance was necessary. I still doubted the usefulness of the whole idea but as we careered around the track, Fizzy laughing and clinging to my arm, I didn’t much care.

“You were brilliant!” she said breathlessly as we climbed out of our low seats. “Amazing!”

“Well,” I said. “I don’t know.”

“Honestly, Lucy,” she said as we made our way back to where Patricia was waiting for us. “You never know how good you are.”

*

On the way home, Fizzy leaned forward from the back seat to chat to us both and Patricia quizzed her about her plans for the future.

“I might move to London to sing in pubs or I might move to the country and live in a big old house with lots of artists and hold exhibitions of our work in an attic. Or I might move to Paris and work in a bookshop or there’s an art school in Bali where you live in a hut, right on the beach. There are so many options really, aren’t there? I don’t know how anyone decides.”

“What will you do, Lucy?” Patricia said.

“I suppose I’ll just stay here. I mean, I don’t know where else I’d go. Maybe there’ll be a job I could do in a shop or a bank on the high street.”

“Well, then,” Patricia said. “I see.”

“I mean, I suppose,” Fizzy said after a while. “I might just stay here too. I really haven’t decided.”

*

After nearly nine months of lessons, Patricia announced it was time I took a test. I felt quite sure I wasn’t ready, but with both Fizzy and Patricia adamant it was all a matter of self-belief, I decided to give it my absolute best shot. I was anxious then when Patricia was ten minutes late to pick me up to take me to the test centre.