But she took a deep breath, making an effort to swallow her irritation. This was what Heather was like. Quiet and unsure about trying new things. She knew she should have asked Jess along too. Jess was good at bringing Heather out of herself. Her sister was too introverted at times, closeted in her bedroom listening to too much Goth music. Flora liked The Cure as much as Heather did – although she preferred All About Eve now. The trouble with Heather was that she didn’t want to open her mind to new experiences. Flora had never been properly kissed, just a peck from Andy Waters back in junior school when they pretended to get married. It was her time.

‘Come on,’ Flora pleaded, trying to keep her voice light and not too desperate. ‘We’ll have fun!’ And the only bloke I’ve ever truly fancied has said he’s going to be here, she silently added.

‘I don’t really want to be here … It’s all a bit loud.’ She looked bewildered, like one of the neighbour’s sheep after it had strayed into the wrong field and got caught up in barbed wire.

It took a while but Flora eventually managed to coax her sister towards the Waltzers. The sun was going down and the sky was streaked with pink, orange and purple. It gave the evening an unreal quality and Flora’s heart quickened even more. The dance beats seemed to pulsate inside her. She just knew something exciting was going to happen for her tonight. If only Heather would stop being such a wuss. This was their father’s fault. He’d shouted and nagged and bullied them for most of their childhood. But he’d been dead for more than four years now. Yet Heather still seemed cowed by him. Flora knew her sister needed to let her hair down a bit, to stop her incessant worrying.

‘I’m not going on that,’ said Heather, her eyes wide with terror as she watched the Waltzers spin and dip as though they were dancing. ‘I’ll be sick.’

Flora wasn’t planning to go on them either. She was just there for the sexy boy she’d bumped into yesterday. Where was he? And then she spotted him jumping from one car to another, whirling them around to the squawking delights of the passengers: three teenage girls with too much lipstick and hairspray, she was irked to note. He was even better-looking than she remembered. Her insides actually fizzed, like a Refresher on her tongue, at the sight of him.

Then he noticed her and his face brightened. He jumped down to where they were standing on the steps, much to the obvious annoyance of his groupies in the car. ‘Well, hello, Gypsy Girl. I was hoping you’d make it.’