Bessie wondered if by ‘we’, Michelle meant her and her family or, crushingly, her and Lawrence, meaning he had already been introduced to her mum, dad and brothers. This would represent a major step and another reason for her to feel sidelined and envious.

‘She’d done a runner again. Mum was going frantic and Dad was a minute away from calling the police, but she turned up, thank God! They found her walking through the park with a rolled-up towel under her arm in her nightdress and wearing my brother’s wellington boots – said she was hot and off to Westminster Lodge for a swim.’

Despite the myriad of emotions that fought for space in Bessie’s mind, it saddened her to think of the old lady in the darkness, heading off to the municipal swimming pool all alone.

‘And before that, I didn’t know what to do! I wanted you to be there, Bessie, of course I did – I always want you there. We’d made plans and I was looking forward to it! But when you didn’t show up immediately, I thought you’d stuck to your guns and weren’t coming. I nearly left myself. I felt like a right wally standing there in the car park on my own, but then Lawrie came over and spoke to me and we danced and . . .’ Michelle swallowed. ‘I was having a really nice time with him and I stopped missing you so much.’

There was something about the way she used the shortened version of his name, which spoke of such intimacy, such familiarity, that it was simultaneously like a match to kindling and a punch. Bessie waited to see if Michelle had any more to say, knowing the two had shared a bit more than ‘a dance and a really nice time’. Michelle kicked her boat shoes into the grass and said no more. Bessie felt a flare of jealousy spiked through with grief. Her friend was not going to say any more – she was lying to her, lying through omission: another first. And having come clean about the fact that Michelle had stopped missing her, Bessie found herself replaced in every sense by Lawrence. It really hurt. Her tears pooled as the sense of betrayal reverberated in her chest.

‘Chatted to him?’ she said, raising her voice. ‘I fucking saw you!’ It was the first time she had ever sworn at her friend in anger.

Michelle took a step backwards on the short brown summer-dried lawn. ‘Saw me what?’ Her voice shook.

‘With Lawrence! I saw you with Lawrence! It looked like more than chatting to me!’

‘So?’

‘So? Jesus Christ, Michelle!’

‘What, am I not allowed to have a boyfriend? That’s ridiculous!’ Michelle’s eyes were wide, and her bottom lip quivered, her words assertive but her stance not so much.