Heart beginning a long, slow dive, Laurel edged her chair closer. ‘Because of her agoraphobia?’

‘Kinda.’ Daisy took a clean tissue and blotted her eyes. Then, ‘Not exactly. Just … just because I can’t.’

‘OK.’ Laurel rose, got each of them a glass of water and brought over the entire box of tissues from the windowsill. ‘Whatever it is, you can tell me.’ Her pulse pounded. Behind the calm, in-charge-adult mask she’d just pinned on for Daisy, her thoughts scurried like mice. Was Daisy in trouble with the police? Or pregnant? She was obviously super-friendly with Niall Cassidy. Then she squared her shoulders. Whatever it was, there would be a way to deal with it. Parents had to so Laurel would find a way, too.

Daisy gazed at her from red-rimmed eyes then flicked a glance at the open kitchen door, as if checking there was no sign of her mother. ‘Has Mum told you what happened at parents’ evening in the summer term?’ she asked, voice quavering.

Laurel shrugged. ‘She seemed in a state afterwards, like it was the last straw so far as going out was concerned.’

‘I felt so bad for her.’ Fresh tears leaked down Daisy’s cheeks. ‘She made herself go because it was all about moving into Year Ten this year. GCSEs and assignments and everything.’

‘Right.’ Laurel nodded. She could imagine Rea wanting to support Daisy in an important school meeting.

Daisy hiccupped a sob and grabbed three tissues at once to bury her face in. ‘We were late. Mum had been sitting in the car doing deep breathing. She was all sweaty. I said “let’s just go home, Mum, it doesn’t matter”, but she said it did matter and she was going in. Then, in the foyer—’ Daisy’s face crumpled ‘—she had a panic attack, clutching her chest and gasping. The only people around were two girls from my year. They were supposed to be helping any parents who couldn’t find the meeting. Octavia and Scarlett.’ Daisy halted, battling to get the words out.

Heart pattering with alarm by now, Laurel gave her the glass of water. ‘It’s OK. Take your time.’

Daisy sipped, then cried into her tissue for half a minute, head on Laurel’s shoulder. Finally, she croaked imploringly. ‘You can’t tell Mum.’

‘I won’t.’ A horrified Laurel hoped she’d be able to keep that promise.

‘Octavia and Scarlett … we don’t like each other. They don’t like anyone from Middledip. They reckon we all ride round in posh cars and we’re up ourselves.’ Daisy steadied a bit as the story began to emerge.

‘It was the same when I was at that school,’ Laurel interjected. ‘Middledip’s a nice village but not full of millionaires.’