And then Heather saw Flora stepping daintily from the bus, her heavy DMs landing in a puddle and splashing the hem of her skirt. Her hair hung in dark tendrils and she had her earphones in, the yellow leads snaking around her velvet jacket and towards the bag on her back. Heather’s heart swelled. Her sister looked utterly miserable. A car drove past, obscuring Flora for a second, before moving out of sight.

Heather stumbled out of the bushes and into Flora’s path, making her sister jump in fright. She put a hand to her heart. ‘Shit, what are you doing?’ she hissed, pulling off the earphones so that they dangled in one hand. Her family signet ring glinted under the streetlight.

Family. They were linked, her and Flora. They shared the same blood. And that stupid little dickhead Dylan wouldn’t come between them.

‘Where have you been?’ she said, although she knew. ‘You’ve been with him again, haven’t you? Sneaking off to God knows where. What’s wrong with you, Flora? Why can’t you see what a loser he is?’

‘Not now, Heather.’ Flora looked weary, like she’d rather be anywhere else than there, talking with her. ‘Go home.’

Heather felt the familiar white-hot rage flare up inside her. Go home. Was that how little Flora thought of her, or respected her? She’d confide in Jess but not her. Her own sister.

‘Why are you freezing me out?’ Heather demanded, her hands making fists by her sides.

Flora sighed. ‘I’m not.’

‘You told Jess where you were going this morning but not me. Don’t you trust me?’

‘It’s not that … Listen, I’m tired. It’s been a long day.’

The rain had stopped now and the air smelt fresh, like washed clothes. Flora went to walk away but Heather ran after her, tugging at her jacket. ‘I was only trying to protect you. That’s why I hurt Dylan. Listen to me …’

Flora stopped walking and spun around. ‘I just want to go home,’ she said.

‘You pushed me the other day. You’ve not been speaking to me.’

‘Oh, grow up. I’ve got bigger things to think about,’ Flora replied.

‘No. We need to talk about this now.’

‘We’ll be late.’

‘I don’t care!’ Heather screamed. That got her sister’s attention. Heather always cared about being late.

Flora stared at her sister dispassionately. Flora’s hair had begun to curl in the damp, and her face was ashen with mascara streaks under her eyes.

Before Heather even thought about what she was doing she grabbed hold of her sister’s arm and began pulling her towards the lane that led to the fields. ‘Ow! Get off! What are you doing?’ cried Flora, trying to shake her arm free.

‘We can walk and talk,’ said Heather.