Jess would sneak out after them and watch. Andy hadn’t been much older than her, and sometimes he smiled when he saw her, and didn’t just tell her to fuck off like Paul did. Didn’t mind having her around. And she’d used to tell herself that he’d want to go out with her, and she could live with him and get away from Barrowman Farm and Mum and Keira and Paul.

Only, it hadn’t been like that.

She’d thought it would. There’d been one time she’d followed them and she’d heard raised voices. Degs was shouting at Paul, on at him about money. Paul had been shrinking back, head down between hunched shoulders, lower lip hanging out, the way he did when someone was having a go and he didn’t dare have a go back. And then Andy had seen Jess watching and grinned at her and waved, and then looked at her for a bit, then spoke to the others, and they’d looked at her too. Jess had hunkered there, crouched painfully behind a tree, afraid to move.

Finally some agreement had been reached, and Paul had come over. Said they were going on to Andy’s house in Matlock, because his Mum and Dad were away on holiday. A party. She could come if she wanted. And of course, she had.

The house had been lovely. Clean, and warm, with soft carpets and furniture. Jess remembered some music playing and drinking cider out of tins, which’d tasted horrible, but had made her feel pleasantly lightheaded. And then Andy had put a hand on her knee and she’d been scared and excited all at once, and he’d led her out of the room while Paul’d pretended not to notice.

She remembered him kissing her, then nothing else. Nothing that stuck. Not till she woke up that morning, sore and alone and cold and scared, and Andy wouldn’t look at her afterwards, like there was something horribly wrong with her, or like she’d done something wrong. Degs neither. Paul’d told her to stop whingeing and making a fuss. She was the one who’d wanted to come to the party.

He hadn’t said a word to her on the drive back to Barrowman Farm. Later when she was lying in bed, crying and desolate and wondering what she’d done wrong, she heard people shouting downstairs.

She’d never seen Andy again, nor Degs. Keira had called her a dirty little slag, even before she found out she was pregnant. Mum’d told her it was her own fault, she’d been asking for it, but she’d know better in future, which was as close to kindness as Mum’d ever come, now she thought of it.