When she’d seen that girl kissing him she’d been incensed. And then, much to her delight, he’d pushed her away. He had his back to her so she couldn’t see his face, but the girl looked dejected, stepping away from him and folding her arms across her chest, her pouty lips turned down. ‘You know I’ve got a girlfriend,’ she’d heard him say, and then he must have sensed Flora watching because he turned, his face falling when he realized she had seen. He must have thought she was about to flounce off in a huff. But, no, she wouldn’t give that hussy the satisfaction. Instead she’d marched right up to Dylan and flung her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. When she opened her eyes the girl had gone.

They were invincible. Nobody could come between them.

And now this. London. She was so excited last night she hardly slept.

They planned to meet by the clock tower at 6.30 a.m. to get the bus into Bristol. From there they had booked a Stagecoach to London. Only ten pounds for a return trip, and Dylan had kindly paid for her. She was still unsure exactly why Dylan was so desperate to go to London, or what he planned to do when they got there, but she didn’t care. She’d never been to London before. A whole day with the love of her life. She imagined them wandering around Trafalgar Square or Hyde Park, hand in hand. It was going to be so romantic and it would be such a relief to be away from Tilby, the fair and that idiot, Speedy, who seemed to be hanging around more and more often, these days.

Despite the early hour the sun was already out, and she could hear the cockerel crowing from the farm next door. A shiver of anticipation ran through her. She dressed quickly in her favourite sleeveless ivory blouse, with the lace collar and a blood-red ankle-length skirt with tassels at the hem, slipping on her mood stone necklace that Dylan had bought for her. It was a deep blue. Happy. And then she crept out of her bedroom, her rucksack on her back, and padded down the landing, her black DM boots in her hand. She knew her mum would be up already, mucking out the horses with Sheila. Uncle Leo should still be in bed. He was a late riser and didn’t normally emerge until gone nine.