Until she had experienced it, it was romance, not sex, that had filled her imaginings, but now she was hooked on its heady power. They kissed a lot, even though his breath was often a little eggy. She didn’t care, not one bit! The kissing, which she used to think of as the end goal, was, she now realised, a mere stepping stone towards the main event, or an accompaniment like ketchup on chips. Sex – that fabulous, messy, hurried, clumsy contact – that was the real deal. Having sex with Lawrence had changed something inside her. She felt grown-up and confident. She felt . . . alive! And even though her mum had made her view on girls who had sex quite clear, and was even judgemental of her own sister, Bessie’s Auntie Nerys, who had lots of boyfriends, who all looked remarkably similar and all seemed to work in the motor trade, she felt no shame – didn’t understand even why she should feel shame! She looked up to Madonna, who oozed sex and was proud of it. The act between her and Lawrence was mutual and wonderful! Not that she quite felt confident or shameless enough to share the event with her mum, but if anything, she felt calm, knowing and liking the fact she had a glorious secret. After that first hurried coupling, Lawrence had treated her differently. They weren’t going out, weren’t official or anything like that, but she now noticed how instead of her trying to catch his eye across the playing field or at the bus stop, he sought her out, stared at her until she acknowledged him.

But the weight of withheld knowledge did not come without its price and it sat heavily upon her. It felt like a betrayal of her friendship with Michelle, but that was what she and Lawrence had agreed. It was like she was under a spell, intoxicated by the thought of him, and it was as surprising to her as it was scary that her loyalties could shift in this way.

‘Well, I wouldn’t mind if you had a change of heart,’ Michelle now said, pulling her from her thoughts, ‘and I don’t want this to be weird.’

Bessie stopped walking and stared at her friend, swallowing the spike of guilt that was never far away and wondering what exactly Michelle might have found out. ‘Don’t be daft! Nothing could be weird – you’re my best friend in the whole wide world ever, ever!’

Michelle twitched, as if not entirely reassured by her words. ‘The thing is, Tony Dunlop told me something.’ She paused and licked her top lip.