‘No.’ He gave a wry smile and walked forward, pulling the little pink velour pouffe with the buttoned top on which she liked to rest her feet while she did her homework from under the edge of her bed. He sat on it, looking comically large and having to plant his feet either side to keep his balance. ‘But what I am saying is that you need to think of a way to overcome the obstacle that has been put in your path. I know you’re upset about your exams. But life is about taking whatever you find in your pockets and making the very most out of it.’

Bessie’s tears gathered as again she pictured life at school carrying on without her. She saw Michelle, and even Melanie Hall, gathered for the first day in the sixth form, laughing and excited, as if she had never been there, forgotten . . . The very idea hurt, leaving her adrift and empty. Everything – everything – hung on her grades: her social life, her plans, her happiness and, not least, her self-worth.

‘I feel so stupid, Dad! And upset that I’m going to be left out.’

‘You’re not stupid, Bessie. Exam results don’t make you clever. Just look at your brother – on paper, he’s a genius, right?’

‘I guess so.’ She really did not want to talk about Philip’s brilliance.

‘Yet only yesterday I caught him in the garage, holding a lighter up with the flame flickering because the bulb had blown. He was looking for the jerrycan full of petrol – with a naked flame!’ He made the sound of an explosion with his mouth, while at the same time touching together and then fanning out his fingertips. ‘He could have blown himself up, along with the whole house, and probably taken Mrs Hicks next door and her cat with him!’

‘Oh don’t, Dad, I love that cat.’

They both laughed.

‘The thing is,’ she said, trying her best to swallow the lump of hurt lodged at the base of her throat, ‘when Philip comes to fill out a form for university or a job, the person looking at it won’t be interested in him nearly blowing up Mrs Hicks, they’ll only look at his long list of good grades, and they’ll look at my long list of bad ones.’

‘You’re probably right,’ her dad said, pausing for a beat, ‘so you need to be clever – think about what you’re going to do next and how you’ll do it. Draw a picture in your mind of what your future looks like and then figure out a way to make it happen.’

‘I want to be an air hostess,’ she said out loud, as a reminder to herself as much as her dad.