Something inside of Bessie snapped, and all the buds of confidence that had started to bloom shrivelled away. All her wonderful thoughts of becoming an air hostess became entangled in Tony’s disgusting words – is that what she was? A hole? A slut? Fucking dumb? Her breath came in starts. She pulled the hem of her sweatshirt down, wishing she wasn’t wearing it as the cool evening air grazed the bare skin of her midriff. It made her feel exposed, dirty. She watched Tony walk away with a spring in his step. The crowds around her seemed to have swelled and the loud beat coming from inside the hall was now deafening.

All her earlier bravado fled. She felt alone, anxious, sick and full to the brim with hot shame.

‘Bessie!’ Louise Berry called out and waved.

Bessie turned away. Did Louise know? Did everyone know? I thought it was just between the two of us. Tony’s right: I am so stupid – so stupid! I trusted Lawrence!

She looked beyond Louise and saw Philip and Carmen walking along the pavement, hand in hand. She knew it was only a matter of time before Philip heard what Tony had to say, and the thought of that was almost more than she could bear.

‘Louise!’ she called out, wanting to talk to someone – anyone.

‘Hey, Bessie!’ Louise walked over, her expression excited, eager. ‘They’re playing “Oops Upside Your Head!” Come and sit in the boat!’ This was a reference to the dance performed by every teenager in the land, where they sat on the floor in long lines, each close behind the other with legs splayed in a V, clapping in time and leaning side to side or from front to back until the music finished.

‘I don’t . . . I don’t feel like it, Louise,’ Bessie sniffed.

‘Oh no, have you been crying? Are you okay?’ Louise put her hand on Bessie’s shoulder. She was a sweet girl.

‘I’m . . . I’m fine,’ Bessie lied. ‘Have you seen Michelle?’

‘Yes, erm . . .’ Louise patted her finger on her lips as if this might help her think. ‘I know, I saw her going out towards the benches!’

‘Thanks, Lou.’ Bessie headed around the side of the building to where the benches sat in a strip along the side of the football pitch. She stumbled in the dirt as dusk pulled its blind on the day, almost doubled over with relief as her eyes were drawn to a flash of neon pink.

Michelle! She wanted to reach the safety of her friend, but as she quickened her pace and drew closer, she noticed she was not alone. She was in fact frantically kissing a boy with his hands up her sweatshirt, while her fingers roamed his hair.

Bessie stared, and felt her knees sway. That boy was Lawrence Paulson. Of course it was.

My Michelle . . .

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER TEN

August 20th 2021