Last year, at her old school during GCSEs, a girl had fainted in an exam. There had been quite a fuss, although the worst bit was the way some students had kept on writing furiously – uncertain if they’d lose time, and precious marks, if they stopped to help a friend. The invigilators had dealt with it, and to be fair, she’d recovered pretty quickly.

Stress, someone had said, anxiety.

What Evie remembered most was how embarrassed the girl had looked once they’d hauled her to her feet and taken her and her papers off to the quiet room so she could attempt to carry on. She would die, absolutely die, if that ever happened to her – so it was very important that she did not faint.

The overhead light bounced off the question paper in front of her, and the printed words seemed to stretch and blur in front of her eyes.

Drowning, she thought.

Then, absurdly, she was back outside the drying ground, the silence pressing in. Waiting.

Deep breath.

The stupid thing was she liked French, she actually enjoyed the lessons, she had – and her mother always loved hearing this at parents’ evening – a good ear. She knew this stuff. Or rather, she had known it at home, up in her room.

She closed her eyes; the damp grass, Flossie tugging at her lead. She had felt it too. And now there had been an accident, Maude had been hurt. Should she say something? Do something?

This wasn’t helping.

She opened her eyes, gripped her pen. Start at the top of the page. Read the question again and start writing.

An hour to go, then it would all be over.

*

Nell was sitting on the kitchen step, an old leather bound book to one side, staring blankly at the drying ground as Kym rounded the corner.

‘Hello?’ She was holding a bunch of flowers. ‘I’ve been sent to check up on you, well, Maude, really. Gran says do you want to go round? And if you do, I can stay with Maude for a bit. She’d come round herself, only – she says she doesn’t want to intrude.’ She looked down at the flowers she was holding, peonies, roses and some sprigs of lavender. ‘These are from her.’

‘Oh, she shouldn’t have.’ Nell picked up her book and stood. It took some effort. ‘Come in and we’ll find a vase for them.’

‘I didn’t mean to disturb you.’

‘You’re not, I was just – reading.’ Nell led the way. ‘How did she know what happened?’ she asked as she went through the cupboards, moving slowly, carefully.