I looked in the mirror and pinched my cheeks again. My eyes were dark with excitement. In the absence of any proper make-up I smeared on some lip balm which Dad bought me because I told him my lips were getting dry. It wasn’t lipstick by any stretch, but it gave them a little sheen.

‘Not too bad,’ I whispered at my reflection, before piling my pillows under my duvet in case Dad decided to put his head round the door, closing the curtains and opening the window.

I sat on the windowsill and leaned out towards the tree branch which used to scare me when it waved around in the wind when I was small. It was by now bigger and stronger, and I hoped it would support my weight. I’d examined it from underneath as well as from my room over the previous few days and figured that, even if it broke, I’d probably be OK as it wasn’t all that high. Not really.

I swung out and the branch bent, dipping down so low that I almost touched the ground. I let go and dropped the last couple of feet. Brilliant. That was easier than having to swing myself along the branch to the trunk to climb down like a monkey as I had imagined I would need to do.

I crept round to the front of the house and ran all the way down to the end of the drive. I was totally out of breath by the time I got there. I didn’t want to risk Fred driving up even part of the way in case Dad saw or heard him. Nothing must go wrong this evening – I was determined to make our night out happen.

I jiggled up and down on my feet as I waited. It wasn’t cold but I was so excited I couldn’t stand still. Eventually I heard the faint sound of an engine and a few seconds later, Fred’s van came into view. He leaned out the window and said ‘Ready? In you get.’

I got in and Fred leaned over and put his hand on the inside of my thigh, kissing me roughly. He looked and smelled different. He had a T-shirt on rather than his usual work overalls and smelled of shampoo.

‘You look nice,’ I said.

He took his hand away from my leg and put it back on the steering wheel. ‘And you look as good as always,’ he said. I blushed, wondering if he meant that I always wore pretty much the same old boring clothes and I wished, not for the first time, that I owned something more glamorous to wear for him. ‘This is something a bit different, isn’t it?’ he added. ‘Being away from your garden. What do you want to do?’