She knew that Fred was a good man but even the good ones couldn’t be trusted – she’d heard her ma say so. Now the thought of where this one date might lead sent her into a silent panic. Her heart raced as she envisaged the wedding, Jeremy walking Maisie down the aisle, all smiles, and she’d be following behind, wearing some stupid bile-yellow or vomit-green dress, with poxy flowers in her hair and a face like thunder. Life would never be the same again. She felt herself welling up, and the back of her nose, just below her eyes, burned. She rubbed it with her closed fist and faced forward, holding it together even though she was now imagining a baby – it looked like a monkey – cradled in her mammy’s arms. Can me ma even have kids any more?

She sensed her mother wanted to talk but she had nothing to say, so she just stared ahead and fumed.

Maisie

Maisie sneaked glances at Valerie all the way home. She tried to make a little conversation when they were on their second tour of the roundabout. Maisie didn’t do roundabouts. She could never work out which lane she was supposed to be in to avoid collisions, aggravated beeping and/or profane hand gestures so she drove round and round until theirs was the only car left on the road, then turned as quickly as she could, darting across lanes and hoping there wasn’t a cop car anywhere in the vicinity. It drove Jeremy mad but Valerie never seemed to notice.

‘Are you looking forward to going back to school tomorrow, Monkey?’ Maisie asked, desperate to break the silence.

‘Don’t call me Monkey. In fact can we put that word into the swear jar?’

‘No.’

‘Unfair.’ Unfair was Valerie’s third favourite word behind ‘bleedin’’ and ‘shite’.

‘OK,’ Maisie said. ‘You can put “monkey” in if I can put in “unfair”.’

Valerie huffed, but at least she didn’t look like she was about to burst into tears. That was something.

When they were finally off the roundabout Maisie made one last attempt to connect in some kind of meaningful way. ‘Why don’t we have a girls’ day next Saturday?’

Valerie eyed her. ‘Can we buy things?’

‘What kind of things?’

‘There’s a hole in me schoolbag and me tracksuit’s so small it’s up around me knees. It’s bad enough doing PE without having your teacher ask why you’re wearing shorts in winter.’ It wasn’t often that Valerie was embarrassed, but Maisie could see the tell-tale pink in her cheeks.