The first time, it had been unplanned, spontaneous and fantastic. They had met by chance at the bus stop, both a little late finishing school, her because of volunteering to litter-pick, trying to curry favour with Miss Carter, who had organised it, and him because of football practice. It was only later that Bessie would swap the word chance for fate, thinking that this meeting had surely been written in the stars . . . They had sat on the bench chatting, the bus had come and gone, and they had flirted. He had kicked at her leg playfully, she had touched his hair with the excuse of restyling his fringe – and the next thing she knew, they were kissing frantically and he was pulling her body on to his. They had grabbed each other’s hand and then, without too much planning or forethought, she had whispered into his ear, ‘Come on!’ and they had hurried to the alley that ran up the side of the school playing field, where she kicked off her pants and stood on the step to a garage, and they had done it. Quickly. And that was that. The virginity ship had sailed.

It wasn’t romantic or chaste or gentle or loving or anything like she had imagined it might be. But then most of what she knew about sex was gleaned from reading The Thorn Birds under the covers with a torch or from the Endless Love video she and Michelle regularly rented from the petrol-station video shelf. In fact, it was nothing like she had imagined it might be. It had felt wonderful, exciting, exhilarating, and to see Lawrence’s face in the throes of submission had made her feel nothing short of powerful. Lawrence Paulson, the good-looking boy who had made the football team, was a prize that made her feel less ordinary. He had chosen her – her! And she had chosen him. Familiar were the tales around the kitchen table of how her parents and grandparents had met, and their stories were truly non-eventful, and so why could her and Lawrence’s love story not start at the bus stop? In the wee small hours, her mind leapt ahead and she saw him taking her little case from her hand after a trip and admiring her red suit – before welcoming her home with a cup of tea, open arms and a need for sex. The thought thrilled her.

What did make her nervous, however, was the fact that this was a secret from Michelle, the girl with whom she shared everything.

After leaving the alleyway, she and Lawrence had giggled and run back to the bus stop and she had felt changed in the subtlest of ways, having cast off the last vestige of childhood and taken control of a situation that she had at some level feared.