‘I don’t know what you mean, Pete,’ I replied, the lie etched clearly on my face and confirmed by my blinking eyelids.

It suddenly hit me that he had just described me as ‘gorgeous’.

Oh my God, I thought, that felt nice.

‘What would your parents do if they ever found out?’

‘Mum would ask me to steal her some wrinkle cream and Dad would chain me to a radiator at best.’

‘Funny, so funny. Well, let’s hope they never find out. Come on, I’ll walk back with you.’

We walked along the seafront with the bed and breakfast in the distance. I wished it was further away but it refused to back off. When we arrived at the end of the terrace he stopped and asked for a photograph of us together. As he took the picture, he gave me a kiss on the cheek. I felt myself turning bright red, so hurriedly grasped my newspaper and said my goodbyes.

‘Well, see you around, Pete.’

‘See you at school. I’ll seek you out.’

‘I might be hard to find, and anyway, haven’t you got a girlfriend?’

‘Nah, nothing official.’

I smiled back at him and waved as I walked away. As soon as I got back to my room I texted Louise. ‘I think I’m in love’ is all I said.

‘WHAT!? WHO WITH?’ she replied.

‘THE BEST-LOOKING BOY IN SCHOOL!!!’ I barked back at her.

At school the following week we bumped into each other in the dining hall and agreed to meet up again on Sunday, at the same place and time. I fetched my father’s paper early so that I could spend longer with Pete. It was a beautiful cloudless day. We bought ice creams and sat together on the beach with our backs up against a wooden groyne to protect us from the wind. Eventually we had a snog and before we left he took a couple more photographs of us gurning like clowns in a mirror shop. He asked me if I would consider being his girlfriend and I told him I would think about it. When I got home for Sunday lunch I was elated and even our tired old dining room and lukewarm lemon meringue pie seemed to possess a magical sheen. I managed to smile so convincingly at one of my father’s astute comments that he immediately turned away in shock and surprise.

The following lunchtime I was sat on the school field with Louise discussing the situation with Pete. As we chatted, we both noticed Claire Haslett approaching us with three of her friends. I sensed this meant trouble and told Louise to get up off the floor with me. Her message was simple and succinct. She held up one of the photographs that Pete had taken of us and snarled at me, ‘Keep your fucking hands off my boyfriend, you slag.’