Stupid Poo-head Peter, as I now referred to him in my head, sniggered, and he and his mother looked at each other in a knowing way.

‘My mum might wear fancy dresses and high heels, but our house is always clean, and she would be ashamed of the filthy caravan in your garden and I can’t wait to tell my Aunty Maisie about it because she’s a neat freak and will be very, very interested,’ I said, and I ran out of the room, down the back steps and into my prison, even though it was now quite dark and therefore extra scary.

It was Uncle Paul who coaxed me out and walked me to my room so I wouldn’t have to bear the wrath of the Bearded Boodlesnot, as I now referred to Aunty Jean in my head. Helen and Maudie were quite kind and suggested I just lay low for a few days, but that night I wasn’t sure I could take it much longer and planned to run away to Anne King’s house and explain I could just live in the empty house when they went on holidays.

The next morning, I knew my escape plans were hopeless, but Uncle Paul came into our bedroom with my school things out of the caravan and told me I wouldn’t be going down there again. This signalled an uneasy truce between me, the Bearded Boodlesnot and Poo-head Peter. It would seem my Aunty Maisie was good for something after all.

But the fifth very bad thing was very bad and definitely the worst. One night, we girls were all sitting on our beds talking. They were asking me what I thought about boys, and I noticed I had quite a few views to share with them about all sorts of things. Maudie and Helen were so quiet and meek they made a good audience, and I found I would talk and talk and talk and they would happily sit and listen. Maudie asked if I had ever kissed a boy, and I said no but that I did have someone ready to marry me whenever I said yes. They asked me about Teddy Edwards and it may be true that I coloured in a few things about him. I might have suggested that he was sixteen, and that his dad was very wealthy and drove a Rolls Royce. I might have advised them that he had his own plane and flew us to Melbourne for picnics sometimes. I could have described his house as having fifteen rooms with a butler. I might have described a crown he had made for our wedding with diamonds and pearls in it.

After we had discussed whether I should marry him or not, I asked them which part of themselves they would cover up if they were in the bath and the house caught on fire and they had to rush out to save their lives and they only had a small handtowel. Maudie said she would cover her chest up and Helen said she would cover her front bottom. I discussed the value of the back bottom cover-up for some time, but we agreed that front bottoms or bosoms would be the way to go because you could always sit down or back up to a wall to cover the back side. I hadn’t realised the door had opened a tiny bit and Aunty Jean was listening.