In the end, the party at the village hall was a great success. Everyone said so afterwards. Kath had been nearly paralysed with nerves as the evening approached, and the first hour was a bit awkward. But after a while everyone began to dance – boys and girls together – and although some of the lads had hidden a few bottles of cider behind the stage curtains, and some of them were certainly a bit worse for wear, there were no fights.

Billy Bishop actually came – she’d feared he wouldn’t because he’d been so casual when she’d handed him the invitation – and danced with Kath on and off during the evening. No matter that he didn’t seem to have much conversation except about planes and cars; she’d never felt as proud as she did basking in the attentions of this tall, good-looking eighteen-year-old. She could hardly believe it when he asked her for the last dance. Someone turned down the lights and trained a single spot onto the glitter ball in the centre of the ceiling, transforming the dull little hall into a place of infinite possibilities.

Billy held her so close she could feel the heat of his body and afterwards, when everyone else was clearing up, he pulled her behind the stage curtains and kissed her properly on the lips. She wasn’t certain about the tongue thing at first, but after a while it became a bit of a game, like hide and seek, and it made her giggle. That was, until her brother Mark looked behind the curtain and bellowed at them so loudly anyone could hear that if Billy didn’t leave his sister alone, right now, he’d get beaten so hard he’d wish he’d never been born.

Kath didn’t care. It was her first kiss, and she was definitely in love. She had never felt happier in her life.

Her good humour was only slightly dented when the exam results came in two days later: while Joan passed them all, Kath only got Geography, Domestic Science and Religious Education. She failed four others, including the all-important English and Maths, which was a bit of a blow after all the help Mark and Pa had given her with revision. That evening, her parents suggested they had a ‘sit down’, which meant a serious chat.

‘Now, about these exams,’ Ma started.

‘Thank heavens they’re over and I can get out of that place.’

Pa frowned. ‘And what do you plan to do next, missy, with only three passes to your name?’

‘Find a rich man and live in luxury forever.’

‘This is serious, Kathleen.’

Ma chipped in: ‘Of course we hope you will meet the boy of your dreams and live happily ever after, but you’re only sixteen. I can’t have you hanging around the house all day like a wet blanket. You’d soon be bored out of your mind.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll get a job.’

‘The problem is,’ Pa said, ‘you’re going to need Maths and English certs if you want to do anything more interesting than serving in a shop or washing up in a cafe. And you are perfectly bright enough to get good passes, if you’d only put your mind to it. We think –’ he glanced at Ma – ‘we think you should consider doing some resits so that you can go to college next year.’