*

Or maybe, I thought to myself later, at the time of night when my wilder ideas would come to the surface, maybe she might take me with her?

*

As I set out for the test centre for the ninth time, I tried once more to keep in mind the encouraging words from Patricia, Fizzy and, increasingly, my father, but it was hard to see what would be different this time. So hard in fact that when, forty-five minutes later, the examiner turned to me and said, “I’m delighted to say you’ve passed. Very well done indeed,” I wasn’t quite sure what to do.

As I wandered, dazed, back into the test centre to let Patricia know that finally – finally! – the task was complete, I was suddenly overcome by an enormous sense of freedom, and a sense of possibility too. Surely, I thought, if I can do that, drive a car, after all that time, I could do anything?

“I suppose I should go and pick Fizzy up, then,” I told Patricia with a shy smile when I found her in reception. It took her a moment to interpret this announcement, but when she did, she pulled me into a hug and held me like that for a long time.

“There’s no need, actually,” she said, taking a tissue from her pocket. “She’s waiting for you outside.”

*

It transpired that, informed by Patricia of the dates on each occasion, Fizzy had been there, outside the test centre, on each of the eight tests that had preceded the successful one, in preparation for the celebration she knew would one day come.

“Take my car,” Patricia said, pressing the keys into my palm. “Go and have an adventure!”

We drove to the seaside, just as I had planned. And even though it was really far too early in the year for it, we went into the sea.

“I do love you,” I said, and it didn’t feel like a revelation at all. “Have I said that before?”

Fizzy shrugged and said, “Probably. I can’t remember.”

And then we’d kissed, and agreed it really was too cold to stay in the water any longer.

*

On the way home, I phoned my father, more to explain my whereabouts than to make any big announcements, but I was pleased to be able to pass on the news of my success.

“Lucy! That’s tremendous!” I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard as much emotion in his voice before. “I’ll cook something special for dinner. Bring Fizzy, of course.”

I was surprised. I’d mentioned Fizzy to him before, but I wasn’t sure how he’d known she was significant enough to be an obvious invitee to a celebratory family meal. When I arrived home, I found there was someone else my father had placed in this category:

Patricia.

*

Eighteen months later, I drove myself and Fizzy back to our home town, from the house we shared on the edge of a river, with a small garden filled with wild flowers (but not, as yet, any goats), in the town where Fizzy displayed paintings in the local art gallery and I helped small children learn to read in the primary school.