When he sat down beside me and put a hand on my shoulder, the tenderness of the gesture seemed to open the floodgates and I began to sob. I felt Kit’s arm round my shoulders and he pulled me to him, my head on his chest, stroking my hair. After a few moments I managed to pull myself together. I turned my face and looked up. Our lips were just inches apart, and I thought for a brief, glorious moment that he might actually bend his head to kiss me.

Instead he said, ‘Let me get you a drink of something. Whisky or brandy?’ He took his arm away and stood up.

‘A glass of water – or lemonade, perhaps,’ I said, feeling even more stupid. I tried to tidy my hair, wipe my face. What was I thinking of, coming here so late at night and weeping all over him? I must look a fright.

Kit returned with the drinks, sat down beside me and we sipped in silence for a few moments. At last he said, ‘Look, Molly, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, you know. If there are problems with your pa, then you must put them first. Yes, we both want to help Eli, but if it’s making you so upset . . .’

He put down his glass. ‘And to be honest, there was something I needed to tell you anyway.’

My heart seemed to hang in my chest. Was he about to make some kind of declaration?

‘The truth is that I’ve got to go away – to London – tomorrow.’

Panic gripped my breath. ‘Tomorrow? What’s happened? Is it something I’ve done?’

‘No, not that. It’s my father. My bloody father. My bloody bastard father.’ The words came out like bullets now. He turned to face me. ‘I’ve been keeping it to myself all summer, hoping that if I don’t think or talk about it, then it won’t be real. But I’m not going back to school. Not now, not never.’

‘Not going back?’ I repeated, stupefied. ‘But I thought you liked your school?’ Kit nodded miserably. ‘What on earth are you going to do instead?’

He shrugged. ‘Dunno. Ma and Pa want to send me to a crammer.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Where they force-feed you, to pass your exams.’

So he’d been slacking and this was his punishment. ‘Is that what you want?’

‘Nope.’ He shrugged again, picking at a loose thread in the upholstery. He looked so fed up – no, not fed up, but blank and distracted.

‘Isn’t that what they’re supposed to do at school?’ I asked. ‘Get you through exams?’

‘It’s no good, Molly. I’ve been through all the arguments, but I’m not allowed to go back.’

‘Not allowed?’

He gave a great sigh. ‘I’ve been expelled.’