‘Take a chill pill. She’s fine,’ said Dylan, stopping in front of them. Heather wanted to wipe the stupid smirk off his face. ‘Your sister’s just a bit tired, that’s all.’

‘Has she been drinking? Is she drunk?’ demanded Heather.

‘She’s definitely not drunk.’

Flora’s eyes looked huge and dark, the green irises almost obscured by her enlarged pupils. ‘I’m fine,’ she insisted, as she attempted to stand up straight. ‘We’d better get home.’

‘I’ll walk with you,’ said Dylan. ‘Make sure she gets home okay.’

His suggestion instantly grated on Heather. She was more than capable of looking after her sister. She grabbed Flora’s arm and pulled her away from Dylan. ‘She’ll be fine,’ she said firmly. ‘Come on, Jess.’

Heather was almost the same height as Flora, despite being two years younger, and Flora kept trying to rest her head on Heather’s shoulder. Jess took the other arm and they whisked Flora away, leaving Dylan standing in the middle of the busy fair with a vacant expression on his face.

‘What has he done to you?’ demanded Heather, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. ‘Has he spiked your drink?’ She’d heard something about this in a newspaper report recently.

Flora giggled in response.

Heather and Jess half dragged, half carried Flora away from the fair and across the field. It was almost dark now, with only a sliver of a bright orange sun left on the horizon. When they got to the turnstile where they usually parted ways with Jess, they stopped. From here they could see the edge of the Powells’ caravan park and the main house beyond that. Heather noticed her mother’s bedroom light was on. Would she be worried yet? They were ten minutes late.

Jess hesitated. ‘Are you going to be all right?’

Heather nodded. ‘It’s not far now. Thanks for helping, Jess.’ She flashed her friend a watery smile but inside she felt like crying.

Jess returned the smile, then untangled Flora’s arm from around her neck. ‘Good luck with your mum.’

‘Thanks.’

Heather watched as Jess almost vaulted onto the stile, scuffing the toes of her blood-red DM boots, jumping down the other side and running over the neighbouring field towards her cottage.

Flora groaned. ‘Just leave me here. I’m too tired to go any further.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. We’re already late.’

‘You’re such a goody-goody.’

Heather sighed. ‘Yep. So you keep saying.’ The things she did for her sister, she thought, as she helped her across the field. Flora kept stumbling. It hadn’t rained for weeks and the grass was hard, with patches of dusty, dried mud. Didn’t Flora care about being grounded? Heather certainly didn’t give a toss. It would be Flora who suffered, not her, Flora who wouldn’t be able to meet up with her precious Dylan any more.