Saffron and Amber were both in Year Five, but they’d been put into different classes so that they’d get a break from each other. They usually played together at break and lunchtime, though, and today they and a few friends were sitting in a corner beside the benches at the back of the playground, trying to decide whether they were going to play “It” like Bethany wanted, or some other game that Amber had made up and wanted to try out. Saffron didn’t mind which one they picked. She was just glad that Amber was keeping her promise about the wall.

They sat in a circle on the concrete, and Lily counted them out, one by one. “Ip-dip-sky-blue-who’s-it-not-you.” (Saffron knew four or five other versions of that, including a rude one that some of the older kids played but that she and her friends didn’t because they were too scared of getting caught.)

“We’re going to go to Finch’s first thing in the morning,” said Amber, interrupting the rhyme so that Lily had to start again, “We might even have breakfast there.”

“We’re not having breakfast there,” said Saffron, “They only have burgers and chips at Finch’s. Uncle Christian would never let us have burgers and chips for breakfast.”

Amber rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine- we’ll go there right after breakfast. You guys can all come, right?” She looked around at Lily, Bethany and Harley, who all nodded. “It’s going to be amazing. You know they’ve got that new rollercoaster? Mum says we can go on it.”

“Is it Saffron’s birthday, too?” asked Harley, who hadn’t known them as long as the others had.

“No,” said Amber, “I’m five months older.”

Harley looked confused, which made Saffron’s stomach turn upside down, because she thought Harley was going to say the same thing Faye Jackson had said a few weeks ago. Faye had said that it took nine months to have a baby, so Amber couldn’t be five months older than Saffron. Not if they were really sisters.

Saffron had worried all day about how to tell Amber what Faye had said, but when she did, Amber hadn’t been bothered. She’d said that it didn’t always take nine months to have a baby. Sometimes they were born early, like Bethany’s little brother had been. And that made sense… but Saffron was still worried. Even though she’d told Amber, she didn’t dare tell Mum or Uncle Christian, in case they said something different.

Anyway, Saffron needn’t have worried about Harley. She just asked Amber about the new rollercoaster- whether you needed an adult to go with you or you could go on your own.

“I don’t know,” said Amber, “But you’ll be able to go on it either way- our mum will go on it with you.” By now, they’d all basically forgotten about the “ip-dip” rhyme and whatever it was meant to decide. Amber was moving some sticks around to make an assault course for the ants who lived in the cracks at the bottom of the wall.

“Really?” asked Harley, “My mum never goes on rollercoasters.”

“Our mum does,” said Amber, “Arranging parties is actually her job. That’s why mine and Saffron’s parties are always so great.”

(Saffron didn’t disagree with Amber out loud, but she’d never thought that their parties were that much different to any of their friends’. Maybe there was something she’d missed, like when Uncle Christian said that advent calendar chocolate was the cheap nasty kind even though it clearly tasted the best out of all of them.)

“That can’t be her job,” said Bethany, “Arranging parties isn’t a job.”

“Yes it is,” replied Amber, “I’ll bring in one of her business cards if you don’t believe me.” One thing Saffron had always been jealous of was how Amber always sounded so sure that she was right. She never worried as much as Saffron did.

*

No matter how many times she’d learned not to get attached to anything, that it would always be taken away the next time their mood changed, some things still stayed, some things still made her light up, and she found herself walking to her music teacher’s house almost by accident.

*

Octavia had dropped by Jonathan’s house to see how Denny was doing. Apparently he was doing so well that he wasn’t even in when she got there.

“Judith and Rosalyn have taken him to a meeting,” Jonathan told her, the beginnings of a smile flickering around the corners of his mouth.

“A meeting?” asked Octavia. They were sitting in the living room, because it was too chilly to stay in the garden. Octavia started to worry about Amber’s birthday again.

“Some political thing at the university. Students against bad housing, or something like that.” He was full-on smiling now, as if Rosalyn and Judith being against bad housing was one of the most adorable things he’d ever heard of. “I told him to ask for a prospectus while he was there. If there’s a subject he’s interested in, it’s not too early to make enquiries for next year.”

“And they won’t mind that he didn’t do his A-levels?”

Jonathan waved a hand. “There’s things he can do to make that up. Not everyone follows the same path to higher education.” (He’ll have picked that phrase up from something he’s read, thought Octavia.) “Oh, Niamh sends her love, by the way. It’s a shame you missed her.”

“Yes, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.” Actually, Octavia had been semi-consciously avoiding Niamh. Things had been a lot better between them since they’d talked it all out last year, but there was still some distrust there. Or maybe not as severe as that- maybe just awkwardness. Either way, it wasn’t something you could resolve all in one go. “There’ll be another time.”

“Speaking of which,” said Jonathan, stretching his arms out to cover the back of the sofa, “I was on the phone with Mother for more than a hour yesterday. You’re heard about the trial, right?”

“The Oakmen thing? Has it started yet?”

“Not yet. But they’re gathering potential witnesses- they’ll probably want to talk to us about Denny- and she’s already furious at the prospect of Natalie Clements smearing her name in court.” He grinned. “I told her that Natalie wouldn’t be their first priority- she wasn’t even there when the attack happened- but she just won’t hear it.”

“If she does smear her name, it’ll be no more than she deserves,” said Octavia. Roger and Sarah Clements had come dangerously close to suing them last spring, and both Jonathan and Octavia suspected that Natalie had been the one to talk them out of it. Octavia wouldn’t have blamed Natalie for deciding to go for the jugular, but she probably hadn’t want to upset Denny. “And it’ll be no more than Mum would have done if there positions were reversed. You remember how they talked about them.” Octavia imitated their mother’s airy drawl. “How dare they question me? They went to comprehensive schools and they shop at Sainsburys- they’re practically a different species!”

Jonathan didn’t react to this. “How long has it been since you went to visit her?”

Octavia stiffened. “About eighteen months. And I only went last time as a favour to you.”

Jonathan’s eyes went big and sad. “She’s a lonely old woman…”

“Yes, and there’s a good reason for that!” Octavia hadn’t meant to snap. It had just come out that way.

“Octavia…”

“Look what happened when you tried to do something nice for her! You hired someone to help her with her old press cuttings, and she smashed her phone for no reason!”

Jonathan sighed and looked put-upon, and Octavia came dangerously close to telling him that that exact expression had probably been half the reason that Jeannie had left him. Bad enough to have your mother-in-law constantly browbeating you without your husband giving you that look whenever you complain. “You can’t hold a grudge forever,” he told her.

Octavia gave him a harsh, mirthless smile, the kind that showed off too many teeth. “Watch me.”

(To be continued)