So this was how it started, and her challenge set the tone. Bessie felt the thump of her friend’s words in her throat; it killed her to hear the sorrow in Michelle’s voice, amplified by the fact that she was undoubtedly partly responsible. Her hurt, however, was tempered by the image rolling on endless loop in her mind’s eye: Lawrence and Michelle, clinging together as if their lives depended on it. Her fingers twitched and her feet shifted on the grass; she was undecided as to whether she should walk forward and hug her friend or turn away and fold her arms. Her heart was breaking and she could feel waves of sadness roll from her. To feel estranged from Michelle was painful, wounding, and filled her entirely with distress. Glad of the low light surrounding them, Bessie wondered if her expression was as tortured as she felt. ‘Uh-huh’ was all she could manage, as she ran her fingers through her ratty hair and remembered her ruined make-up.

‘I kept looking out for you,’ Michelle said.

‘Did you?’ snorted Bessie.

‘Why are you saying it like that? ’Course I did!’

‘I’m saying it like that because I hung around outside for ages.’ Bessie recalled the touch of Tony’s hand on her skin and shuddered. ‘I asked if anyone had seen you around and it didn’t seem like you were waiting for me then.’ I needed you, but you were preoccupied . . .

‘What are you talking about? I went inside when I arrived because I thought you might be in there, and I danced and hung out, but I kept going outside to see if I could see you. I did!’ Michelle’s desire and keenness to make her point suggested she might feel as guilty as Bessie did. She looked at the floor and Michelle continued, her tone agitated. ‘There were so many people around, and then I was getting worried because I didn’t know where you were, and I wondered if you’d decided not to come after all, and then someone said they’d seen you talking to Louise, and then it was like you’d just disappeared . . .’ Michelle reached down to fold the backs of her boat shoes under her heels. Bessie knew they rubbed with no socks after a while.

‘Yeah, and you were so bothered it’s taken you four hours to come and see if I’m okay!’ Bessie didn’t know why she said this. She knew it wasn’t Michelle’s job to come after her, aware that it was her who had left the party, run away. It just came out, and her voice cracked at how terrible it felt to talk to the girl she loved in this way.

‘Well . . .’ Michelle looked over her head, ‘firstly, I couldn’t come sooner cos we’ve been out looking for my nan for the last hour, so . . .’