Sara sighed theatrically but did as her sister instructed. ‘Pamela will never come upstairs, but in case she does, lay out the spare mattresses, put pillows under the blankets, and if she asks where you are, tell her you’re both in the bathroom.’ She watched as Brinley applied a sticky layer of lip gloss. ‘But she won’t.’

‘What else?’

‘Have the radio on to make it seem like you’re still in the room,’ said Sara. Shannon nodded in satisfaction.

‘What about my shoes?’ said Brinley, smoothing down her skirt. ‘They’re downstairs. What if Pamela notices they’re gone?’

Shannon scrabbled in her wardrobe for a pair of low-heeled black boots and chucked them at her friend. ‘Borrow these.’

A skein of faint stars was scattered across the night sky when Shannon opened her bedroom window. The air was cooler now the sun had gone down, but it was still warm and the scent of possibility was everywhere. She hefted herself onto the sill and swung her legs around until they were hanging out of the window.

She turned and grinned at Sara, impish. ‘Wish me luck.’ And then she was gone.

Shannon’s bedroom, while at the back of the house, did possess a single advantage, and that was a narrow balcony that overlooked the garden. From the balcony, it was possible to drop comfortably onto the flat roof of the garage and scramble to the ground, out of sight of the conservatory.

Brinley peered out of the window. Shannon had already made her way down and was opening the back gate.

‘Good luck,’ said Sara softly. Brinley gave her a quick hug, and then she, too, was gone.

31

The girls held hands as they ran down the lane and through the village, the night sky unfurling above them, a roll of navy silk.

They laughed as they ran, wrapped up in the joy of being young and unfettered, trembling on the edge of adolescence, when feelings, not reasons, were enough.

Shannon stuck close to Brinley, hugging the river and the wide bank of trees that wound through the village to avoid being seen by friends of Dr and Mrs Carter, who were out enjoying the mildest Saturday evening in weeks. When they passed the Hope and Anchor pub, Brinley turned her head away too – a glimpse of Maureen Connolly would have ruined her night.

Once they were through the main drag of the village, the girls slowed down to catch their breath. Shannon chewed on a nail, struck by a sudden wave of dread. ‘What if Richard finds out we’re gone?’

‘We’re here now,’ said Brinley. ‘If you’re that worried, we can stay for half an hour and then head back.’

Shannon nodded, pacified. She would meet up with Kit, as she’d promised she would, and slip home before her parents noticed anything was amiss.