It was too much to hope that she might be left alone. Evie managed to be upright and reading a book at her desk when her mother opened the bedroom door. She rubbed at her face surreptitiously. She felt so ashamed, she felt so stupid.

‘Hello?’

‘Hi.’

‘How’s the revision going?’

‘Fine, Mum, really.’

‘And what is it next? English?’ Carolyn slid into the room, closing the door behind her.

‘Mum. I need to . . .’ It was absurd, to feel so caught out, so vulnerable. ‘I’m fine.’ She could ask, of course, about the house, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to have that conversation all alone with her mother. It might be better to ask her dad, better still to find an answer without asking either of them. She tried to smile.

‘She’s not causing trouble, is she? Gina’s granddaughter.’

‘She has a name, Mum.’

‘I thought we’d agreed you’d drop her, spend more time with Marnie and the others.’

‘No. You agreed.’ Evie couldn’t help herself; even if it had all gone wrong, she’d rather die than let her mother find out.

The blue folder was in plain view on the desk. Carolyn picked it up. ‘And what’s all this?’

‘Notes. French.’ It wasn’t even a convincing lie, surely her mother would remember she’d completed all the French papers already. ‘I really should get on, Mum.’

Carolyn opened the file, began to read through it, scanning through the pages quickly then dropping them on the bed.

‘That’s private,’ said Evie, burning to snatch it away.

Her mother looked up. ‘Don’t you take that tone with me,’ she said, ‘not on top of . . . this.’

‘I—’ God, she was so tired of this. ‘We’re friends, Mum. She’s got exams too, it’s not like we’re bunking off school or anything.’

‘Friends.’

‘Yes.’ At least she’d thought so.

‘And what about Marnie and Grace, nice girls who—’

‘I can have more than one friend, you know. I’m not five years old.’ This last response was too sharp, too much, and Evie knew it.

Carolyn gave a little nod of the head. ‘Fine,’ she said, closing the folder and dropping it on the bed. She turned towards the chest of drawers. ‘Fine. I was going to leave this. I was going to overlook your – behaviour. But obviously your father and I have been far too lenient with you.’

‘Mum – please.’ Evie was on her feet. ‘Don’t.’

Carolyn pulled out the top drawer, then upended it over the bed. ‘Let’s have a little look at what’s been going on here, shall we?’

*

‘Did you honestly think,’ said Carolyn quietly, ‘that I didn’t know?’ She was sitting on the bed, the contents of the chocolate box in the drawer, all the scraps of jewellery, the bright keepsakes scattered over the duvet.