(The truth is, I bought a shiny new triangle thing every year and I never used it for any math sum, ever. Not that I will mention this fact to Mum or Dad.)

“And when we’ve bought our things, we’ll go and take some nice photos of the nature,” says Mum firmly. “That’ll clear your head, Becky, love. Doing something artistic. You can take a piccie of Minnie and me on a big red rock and we’ll send it to Elinor.”

Minnie? On one of those huge great rocks? Is she joking?

“Great!” I say. “Or, you know, beside a rock.”

We all head to the till to buy our items, and the lady in the feather-print dress looks delighted. And then, just as it’s my turn and I’m about to hand over my five-dollar bill, I see a big box of the same hand-printed pencils, marked SPECIAL OFFER: TEN FOR THE PRICE OF FIVE. And I pause.

Ten for the price of five. That’s actually a pretty good offer.

Let’s see…I do a quick calculation in my head. That’s ten hand-printed pencils for…$12.45. Wow. That’s not bad, is it? It’ll be plus tax, but still. And I’ve got an old twenty-dollar bill that’s been sitting in my jacket pocket forever, so I could give everyone a pencil as a present! Like a mascot.

“Bex?” says Suze, watching me hesitate. “Are you going to get the pencil?”

“Yes,” I say absently. “I am. Although actually I was just thinking, that’s quite a good deal, isn’t it?” I gesture at the box. “Don’t you think? Ten for the price of five? Because I was thinking I’d love to get you all a little souvenir, and, I mean, everyone needs pencils—”

There’s a kind of explosion next to me. I think it’s Suze. How did she even make that sound?

“What?” I turn and stare at her. “What?”

But she doesn’t reply at first. She’s gazing at me with an expression I can’t read. Then suddenly she grabs me for a hug, so tight I can hardly breathe.

“Nothing, Bex,” she says into my ear. “Nothing.”

—

As we head out of the shop, I feel content in a way I haven’t for so long. It wasn’t all my fault. I hadn’t realized quite how much I’d been blaming myself. And now I feel free.

We bought the ten pencils in the end, but everyone chipped in a dollar or two. Mum and Janice have already chosen one each, and Suze is hesitating between the turquoise and the pale pink.

“Turquoise goes with your eyes,” I advise, as she holds them up to compare. “But pink goes with everything. Actually, have you seen the pale-blue one? Because it’s really gorgeous—” I break off. “Suze?” She isn’t even listening. Her fingers have slackened round the pencils and her gaze is locked over my left shoulder. As I turn to see what’s going on, I hear a kind of whimper come from her.

“Tarkie?”