I mutter ‘the choking thing’ to Tom and he shakes his head.

‘You gave her a written warning for that? It was an accident! Come on, you’ve got to be kidding, Uncle Mike.’ He’s never called him that before, and from the look on my boss’s face I have the feeling he won’t be doing it again.

Mr Neeson adjusts his shorts, his voice rising an octave. ‘Well, I for one had hoped you’d learned a valuable lesson that day. These little pranks of yours have consequences. You need to take things more seriously. Both of you.’

Tom puts his hand on my shoulder, refusing to back down. ‘Sack Ivy and I quit too.’

Mr Neeson laughs. ‘We both know you’ll be back by the end of the week. But fine, I accept your resignation.’

My shoulders drop and I stare at the floor. This job is one of the best things I have going for me. I’ve worked through most of the school holidays and nearly every weekend, and I’ve never once been late or taken a day off sick. I love seeing the wonder on children’s faces when a butterfly lands on them. I like feeling I’m good at something, that I have knowledge worth sharing with people. I can get another job – I’m smart and I work hard – but I don’t want to go anywhere else. I want to take care of the butterflies and moths and learn about the different species. My feelings must be written on my face, as Tom voices what I can’t bring myself to say.

‘Ivy is brilliant at this job and you know it. Please don’t do this.’

Mr Neeson glances back at Anorak Man and clicks the door shut behind him. ‘I don’t have a choice. He’s threatening to press charges.’

‘But he attacked me.’

‘So you say, but there are no witnesses.’

‘What does he say happened then? Let me talk to him.’ I try to push past and my boss draws himself up to his full height, all five foot five inches, which is still enough to tower over me. ‘Please, Mr Neeson, I need to know why he –’

‘No, Ivy. I’m not letting you in there. He says he came over to ask you a question. He touched your arm to get your attention and you overreacted.’

‘That’s not what happened.’

‘No?’ Mr Neeson gives me a knowing look. ‘You teenage girls are all the same. A man only has to look at a bit of skirt these days and she’s filing a complaint. Why anyone would teach karate moves to schoolgirls is beyond me.’

‘Excuse me?’

He opens his mouth and I snatch my coat and bag from him, stamping hard on his foot as I do. Whatever offensive rubbish he was about to come out with is replaced by a yelp.

‘You know what? Stick your stupid job.’

4

I barge through the exit doors and stomp into the car park. After the tropical heat of the glasshouse, the cold autumnal wind is like a slap to my face. It’s not just rage making my cheeks burn, but shame. I’ve put up with my sleazy boss for months, and for what? So he could sack me at the first opportunity. I should have spoken up or done something before now.