The four of us set off for Blackwood Hill, Daniel and Little Richard bearing their duffel bags manfully. It was already very hot, the sun so bright we had to squint, though Nina had sunglasses. She looked glamorous and mysterious in them, much older than me. But Daniel wasn’t remotely in awe of her. When she started going on about her romance in France he yawned noisily.

‘Do pipe down about that twit Pierre. I can’t stand him,’ he said.

‘Yeah, because he just happened to beat you at tennis three times in a row!’ said Nina.

‘Only because he sees some special tennis coach. Can you play tennis, Laura?’ Daniel asked.

I shook my head. ‘I’m not really into sporty things,’ I said. There was tennis at school, but all the girls who chose it seemed to know how to play already, so I’d always picked rounders instead.

‘Actually, tennis can be quite good fun. I could teach you a bit if you like,’ Daniel offered. ‘You could come to our club.’

I was thrilled, but alarmed. I knew the Bertrams were all members of Lakeside Tennis Club. It was very posh and alarmingly expensive to join. I didn’t have any white clothes or tennis shoes or my own racquet so I didn’t see how I could possibly play.

‘You could come as our guest and borrow Nina’s racquet and some of her tennis gear,’ said Daniel, as if he could read my mind.

‘Well. Maybe,’ I said.

‘Great,’ said Daniel, as if it was all decided.

I glanced anxiously at Nina, wondering if she’d mind. ‘Is that OK?’ I asked her.

She shrugged. ‘Sure. If you want.’

I did want! I felt a surge of pure joy. This was what I liked most of all, being with all the Bertrams and feeling part of their family.

We stopped for a rest before we tackled the long steep chalk path up to the top of Blackwood Hill. We all had a few gulps of orange juice but saved the rest for when we got to the top. Nina wouldn’t let Little Richard take even one bite of doughnut. Little Richard stuck his tongue out at her, behind her back.

‘Nina’s no fun any more,’ he said. ‘I wish you were my sister, Laura.’

‘I wish I was too,’ I murmured.

I was boiling hot myself when we got to the top, and worried I might have damp marks under my arms, but it was still glorious to be out of the wood and up at the summit, looking out for miles and miles.

‘Here at last!’ said Daniel. ‘Nosh time now.’

‘Hurray, hurray! Can I eat my doughnut first?’ Little Richard said, jumping up and down with sudden energy.

Nina was delving in the big duffel bag and spreading out the food. Little Richard grabbed the smaller bag and extracted the doughnuts joyfully. Daniel looked at me and gave my hand a squeeze.

‘Thanks for cheering him along, Laura. You’re so good with him,’ he said.

‘It’s OK. I like him,’ I said. I like you too, Daniel, I thought. I like you so much.

I wondered what Nina would think if she saw we were effectively holding hands. It was so different being with Daniel to being with Léon. No, I wasn’t going to think about him ever again. He didn’t exist.

‘Come on, let’s have some grub,’ said Daniel.

The picnic was splendid, but the doughnuts were voted the best part.

‘Manna from heaven,’ said Daniel, munching enthusiastically.

‘Yummy scrumptious delicious,’ said Little Richard, running his tongue up and down the cream.

‘Perfect,’ said Nina, delicately licking sugar off her fingers.

I gazed out over the fields and cottages to the misty blue hills. I felt so light with happiness I felt I could leap off the ground and fly up into the cloudless sky. The sun was very hot and I felt my face burning. Nina had lain down to sunbathe, stretched right out with her skirt fanning the grass and her toes carefully pointed – but after five minutes she sat up again.

‘I’m getting fried to death,’ she said. ‘Let’s find some shade.’

We went back into the woods and Daniel supervised Little Richard while he climbed an ancient oak tree and scrambled inside the hollow trunk.

‘I love this old tree,’ said Little Richard. ‘Is it really old, Daniel? From before I was born and Mum and Dad were born and Granny and Grandpa and—’

‘Shut up! Yes, oak trees are very old,’ said Nina. She hitched herself onto a low branch and sat swinging her legs. ‘The oldest trees ever.’

‘Not as old as yew trees. They’re the oldest trees of all,’ said Daniel. ‘Let’s get you out, Little Richard, and we’ll go and find some. That’s why this is called Blackwood Hill.’

‘Are yews black then?’ I asked.

‘No, they’re green, but they’re deadly poisonous, so they’re called the death-tree,’ said Daniel.

‘Really? You know so much, Daniel,’ I said.

‘For God’s sake, stop gushing, Laura,’ said Nina. ‘Daniel knows zilch. He just mugs things up in books. I can’t see why on earth you’ve got such a crush on him.’

‘I haven’t!’ I said, feeling a fool.

‘Oh, please do have!’ said Daniel. ‘Stop being a cow, Nina. Of course I read a lot of books. That’s where all information comes from.’

‘Are yews really deadly poisonous?’ Little Richard asked, awed. ‘Let’s go and find them!’

‘Right,’ said Daniel, reaching into the hollow and pulling Little Richard out.

‘So you can lick them like you licked your doughnut and then we’ll watch you screaming in agony with the poison,’ said Nina.

‘You’re such a tender big sister,’ said Daniel. Little Richard was looking disconcerted. Daniel ruffled his hair. ‘She’s just teasing,’ he said.

‘I wouldn’t lick trees,’ said Little Richard.

‘Of course not. You’re not a baby,’ said Daniel.

I wanted to say I thought he was a wonderful older brother, but I knew it would make Nina groan.

‘Come on then,’ she said impatiently. ‘Where are all these poisonous trees?’

We found a circle of them deeper into the wood, their branches spreading as if they were reaching out to each other. Their trunks were gnarled and knotted, contorted over the centuries, yet there were young shoots spurting here and there.

‘Each tree looks like it’s got dozens of little ones too,’ I said.

‘It regenerates. It can do it all by itself. That’s why they last so long. People reckon they can live a thousand years or more,’ said Daniel.

We looked at them with awe, even Nina. She held out her slim brown arms.

‘Imagine all the little Ninas bursting out of my own skin,’ she said.

‘Terrifying to think there could be any more of you,’ said Daniel. ‘One’s more than enough, eh, Laura?’

I laughed uncertainly. I knew it wouldn’t be wise to gang up on Nina, but it was a heady feeling having Daniel on my side.

I wandered round the outside of the yews, and then squeezed into their inner circle.

‘What is it called, that thing witches do? You know, when they walk round seven times anti-clockwise to make a spell. Widdy something?’

‘They widdle? Charming!’ said Nina, and Little Richard shook with laughter.

‘Widdershuns,’ said Daniel. ‘That’s what it’s called. Do you want to give it a go? Come on, you lot.’ He stepped inside the circle too, gesturing to Little Richard.

‘The branches might touch us,’ he said, shaking his head.

‘That won’t hurt us,’ said Daniel. ‘Look.’ He put his arms as far as he could round one of the trunks.

‘Don’t!’ Little Richard cried, and ran to him, trying to pull his hands away.

‘It’s OK, little buddy, truly. People make things out of yew wood. Just don’t eat any of the tree. Come on, we’ll make a spell. Shall we make warts grow on the end of Nina’s nose? Or turn her into a witch?’ Daniel wondered.

‘She’s a witch already,’ I muttered.

Nina looked strangely pleased. ‘Of course I’m a witch,’ she said, stepping into the inner circle too. ‘Beware! My magic spell will be ultra-powerful.’

She led the way, skipping gracefully as if she were doing a dance. We followed her, counting when we’d completed each circle. It began to get a bit tedious after three circles.

‘I’m a bit bored now,’ said Little Richard. ‘I don’t think I want to do this any more. And I don’t really know how to make a wish.’

‘Eye of newt and toe of frog,’ said Nina. ‘Boiled up with all sorts of other manky bits of creatures in a cauldron. That’s the way I make my secret spells.’

‘Seriously?’ asked Little Richard. ‘You have to cut up little animals?’

‘No, that’s just in Macbeth,’ I said. We’d been taken to the Old Vic on a school trip last year and sat on the punishingly hard benches up in the gods. I hadn’t been Nina’s friend then. She’d been larking around with Patsy and her other friends. I’d sat on the end of a bench by myself.

‘Just wish for something,’ I said.

‘Like what?’

‘Well, you could wish you had the power to conjure doughnuts out of thin air whenever you get peckish,’ I suggested.

‘Oh, that would be a brilliant spell!’ said Little Richard. ‘Will it really come true?’

‘Definitely,’ said Nina, snorting.

‘Don’t get your hopes up, pal,’ said Daniel. ‘Still, I don’t think my spell is going to work either.’

‘What’s that going to be?’ I asked.

‘Not telling,’ said Daniel.

‘I can guess,’ said Nina.

I wondered if his wish could have anything to do with me.

‘You’re fussing about next year and whether you can get into Cambridge,’ said Nina.

‘So?’ said Daniel, blushing. She was obviously right.

‘You’re moving to Cambridge?’ I said, devastated. ‘What, all of you?’

‘Not us, dummy. Daniel wants to go to King’s, like Dad,’ said Nina.

It still didn’t make much sense.

‘King’s is one of the colleges at Cambridge University. And I’m not sure I’ll make it, even if all three witches in Macbeth cast spells on the A-level examining board,’ said Daniel. ‘And I’ve got to take a special Entrance and Scholarship exam at Christmas.’

‘Do you want to go to Cambridge too, Nina?’ I asked.

She shrugged. ‘I’d like to act in Footlights – but I think I’d sooner go to RADA.’

They both seemed to be talking in code.

‘Don’t be so dim, Laura,’ said Nina, yawning. ‘Footlights is an acting club at Cambridge, but I want to go to the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art.’

‘How do you know about all this?’ I asked, as we carried on circling. Little Richard was skipping ahead now, spurred on by thoughts of magic doughnuts.

Nina shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Mum and Dad, I suppose. When we talk about our futures.’

I supposed Mum had talked about my future when I’d passed the eleven-plus. She hoped I’d be able to do a secretarial course and get an office job. I didn’t hope that at all.

‘So what will your spell be then, Nina? Which future will you choose?’ I asked her.

‘I’m not going to waste a spell on my future. Why would I need to anyway?’ she said.

She was speaking the truth. She was top of our class and she was brilliant at acting. She didn’t need any magic spell.

‘Don’t be so unbelievably arrogant, Nina,’ said Daniel, giving her a shove.

‘So what are you going to wish for?’ I asked.

Nina smiled. ‘Aha! That would be telling,’ she said, though she probably simply couldn’t make up her mind. She loved being mysterious.

‘What about you, Laura?’ said Daniel.

‘I’m not telling either,’ I said, though I knew.

When we’d finished the seventh circle at last, we all closed our eyes and wished silently. Little Richard shut his eyes and blew his cheeks out with effort to make his doughnut spell come true. Nina simply stood still, gazing up to the top of the tallest yew. Daniel rolled his eyes, pretending not to take it seriously now, but I saw his lips moving. I kept mine shut and my eyes open but my whole being was wishing, Please let me be part of the Bertram family for ever!

The ancient magic of the yews seemed to seep into me. I felt their sap running in my veins like blood. It was as if the spell was truly working. When we came out of the wood into the bright sunlight again, I felt as if I’d been reborn.

I still felt so very happy that evening over supper. It was spam fritters and chips. Mum was generally too tired to cook anything elaborate when she got home from work.

‘Whatever’s got into you tonight, Laura?’ Mum asked. ‘Why do you keep on grinning?’

‘I don’t know. I’m just happy. We had such fun today,’ I said.

‘Yet you seemed so down only yesterday. We couldn’t get a word out of you,’ said Mum.

‘Well, I was just feeling a bit fed up, that’s all,’ I mumbled.

‘We can’t keep up with you nowadays. You’re so moody! You never used to be like this,’ Mum said.

‘For goodness’ sake, Mother, don’t nag the child because she’s happy!’ said Dad, covering his chips with brown sauce.

‘I wish you’d stop calling me “Mother”. I’m not your mother! And do you have to shake half a bottle of sauce on those chips? It’s so common,’ said Mum.

‘Why are you so put out, eh? Just because our Laura’s had a lovely day up at Blackwood Hill!’ Dad asked, deliberately giving his chips another dollop.

‘Don’t be silly! Though I can’t understand why she liked it so much. We walked all the way up there once and it was a bit of a disappointment. There’s nothing there, not even a refreshment hut, so we couldn’t give the kiddie an ice cream, and there were no facilities! I remember I had a tummy ache all the way home,’ said Mum.

‘Well, you should have peed behind a bush like everyone else,’ said Dad.

I laughed, though I knew it would irritate Mum more.

‘William! Language!’ said Mum. ‘I just don’t see why Laura suddenly thinks it’s the most marvellous place in the world, when she sulked last time because she had to go without a choc ice.’

‘I was only a little girl then,’ I protested.

‘And you’re still a little girl now, even though you think you’re all grown up. I’m not happy about you roaming around with those young Bertrams all the time. Why on earth didn’t Mrs Bertram go to keep an eye on you?’ Mum asked.

‘She’s Doctor Bertram and she works at this clinic, you know she does,’ I said. ‘We don’t need looking after. Daniel’s seventeen, for God’s sake!’

‘Don’t blaspheme!’ said Mum.

‘As if you care! We don’t ever go to church,’ I said. ‘I don’t see why you’re making such a fuss about everything. I thought you liked me being friends with Nina.’

‘She seems a nice enough girl, though she’s a bit of a madam. But I don’t see why you want to see her every wretched day. And her entire family,’ said Mum. She stood up and went to the kitchen to make our Instant Whip for pudding, though she had barely touched her main course.

‘What’s up with her?’ I said to Dad. ‘She always fussed about having to leave me on my own in the holidays and yet now I’ve got friends to go round with she’s fussing even more. I can’t win. She’s gone barmy!’

‘Now now, don’t talk about your mother like that. I shouldn’t have been so tactless, winding her up like that. She’s going through a bit of a funny time. It’s because of her age. We have to make allowances for her,’ said Dad.

It seemed like I’d been making allowances for Mum all my life.

‘Nina’s mum must be around the same age and yet she doesn’t make a huge song and dance about everything,’ I muttered.

‘Hey, hey, none of that! Can’t you see that’s half the trouble? She thinks you’d sooner have this Mrs Bertram, Doctor, whatever, as your mother. She worries you want to be one of them,’ said Dad.

I was shocked that Dad of all people had worked it out. Dad never seemed to take much notice of Mum or me. He ate his meals, read his paper, watched the television, dozed in his armchair. He might ask us if we’d had a good day, but didn’t really properly listen if we said yes or no. He never seemed to give me a second thought, and yet now he knew exactly what was going on inside my head.

‘That’s not true,’ I lied.

‘Of course it is. And it’s only natural. But it upsets her all the same. She’s worried you’ll start looking down on us,’ said Dad.

‘That’s nonsense!’ I insisted, but perhaps he was right about that too.

‘Anyway. Cut your mother a bit of slack. Don’t go on and on about your lovely times with the Bertram family,’ said Dad.

‘All right. I won’t,’ I said, as Mum came in with the pudding.

‘Oh yum yum, strawberry, my favourite!’ I said.

Mum gave me a sharp look. ‘Are you being sarky?’ she said.

‘No! I love Instant Whip,’ I said, which was true enough. I offered to do the washing-up just so I could have a good scrape round the blue plastic serving bowl.

I didn’t say another word about the Bertrams for the rest of the evening. I sat watching Arthur Askey on the television with Mum and Dad and I laughed when they did, but I wasn’t really taking anything in. I was going over the magic day in my head. We still had a week and a half of summer holiday left.

I hoped we might go to Blackwood Hill again the next day, or at least have another picnic. I phoned Nina up the next morning, after I’d winkled more coins out of my piggy bank.

‘Shall I bring some more doughnuts?’ I asked eagerly.

‘What?’ she said, as if it was the most outlandish suggestion. ‘Why?’

‘Well, because everyone likes them,’ I said. I swallowed. We clearly weren’t going on another picnic. ‘I wanted Little Richard to think his spell was working.’

‘Oh. Yeah. Right. Well, Little Richard isn’t around today. It’s his friend’s birthday and they’re going on some kind of outing,’ said Nina, yawning. ‘What time is it? You got me out of bed, you know.’

‘Sorry! So are we going on an outing too?’

‘I haven’t really thought what we’re doing yet,’ said Nina.

I didn’t know if she was meaning her and me, her and Daniel and me – or just Daniel and her. I knew she was just playing games with me. I shouldn’t let her get away with it. I took a deep breath.

‘OK then. Bye,’ I said, and put the phone down quickly.

I hoped she’d ring me back immediately. But she didn’t. I waited, agonized, until half an hour had gone by.

‘All right then, see if I care,’ I said to the silent phone.

I picked up Madame Bovary. I was halfway through now, because I hadn’t been able to sleep properly for two nights. I knew what happened at the end. I hadn’t been able to resist peeping. I was horrified. All the books I’d read so far had happy endings. Poor Emma Bovary’s ending was the worst ever.

In spite of my hurt feelings I found myself getting so absorbed in the book that I jumped when the phone rang. My heart started thumping. Don’t be such an idiot – it’ll just be a wrong number, I told myself. But it was Nina.

‘Hi you,’ she said. ‘Right, it’s all settled. We’re going to see The Nun’s Story at the Granada.’

I hated the way she calmly carried on our interrupted conversation. Why did she want to go to the pictures on such a sunny day? Why not another picnic? Why not a game of tennis for that matter? Daniel had suggested I come to their tennis club. He’d never want to go and see a woman’s film about a nun, not in a million years.

But I actually wanted to go and see it. I’d read about it in Mum’s Picturegoer. It was meant to be very moving and dramatic, and Audrey Hepburn was beautiful, even in a nun’s veil and habit. And I wanted to see Nina too, though I despised myself for going along with her little games.

‘So, shall I meet you outside the Granada this afternoon?’ I asked.

‘Well, you could. But don’t you want to have lunch together first? There’s the Black and White Milk Bar opposite. It’s a bit of a dive but they do nice chips,’ said Nina. ‘See you there half twelve?’

She rang off without waiting to see if I’d say yes. I very much wanted to go to the Black and White. A ‘bit of a dive’! Mum had taken me there for a treat once, though she was horrified that they charged five shillings and sixpence for a plate of sausage, beans and chips. They were very good chips though, crisp and golden and very fluffy inside.

I had to tackle my piggy bank again, scraping its insides until there was just one solitary coin left so at least it could still rattle. Then I changed clothes. I’d been wearing my shorts and a V-necked T-shirt and white socks and plimsolls, a suitable outfit for another trek, but they made me look childish. I thought The Nun’s Story was probably an X-rated film. I’d need to look sixteen.

My stomach lurched, remembering Léon and the Lido, but I thumped my head fiercely, trying to knock all thoughts of that day into oblivion. I caught sight of myself in my bedroom mirror. I looked like a crazy person. A crazy much-too-young person.

I took my shorts off and put on a flared cotton skirt. I rolled each sock up and stuffed them carefully into my bra cup so it looked as if I had a proper chest. I didn’t have any unladdered nylons so I went bare-legged, putting on my one and only pair of grown-up shoes, though the heels were barely an inch high and very stubby.

Then I thought about make-up. I had a pale pink lipstick that hardly showed, nothing else. Mum said I was too young for full make-up. Perhaps she thought she was too young herself, because she hardly ever wore any. I went into her bedroom and peered in the drawer of her dressing table. She had some loose powder with a giant powder puff, a Christmas gift from Aunt Susannah, but only used once. I tried applying the powder on my own face but had to brush most of it off because I looked as if I’d tipped a flour bag over my head.

I opened a little floral bag and discovered a rouge compact and some blue eyeshadow. I applied a little of each, but my face looked like a china doll now, so I rubbed most of that away too. There was also a small tin of mascara with a brush. It was very dried up, so I had to use a bit of spit, and then carefully applied it to my eyelashes, being careful not to smudge. That seemed more effective.

I peered at my face critically, practising expressions. I tried to look knowing, like Nina, but couldn’t manage to make my eyebrows tilt in the right way. I attempted a flirty sideways glance, fluttering my newly defined eyelashes, but I could see I looked ridiculous. I gave a sigh, brushed my hair hard until it crackled, and then read some more Madame Bovary, glancing at my watch every five minutes until it was at last time to set off for the town.

My shoes were biting my feet by the time I got to the Black and White Milk Bar, and I was walking with a limp. I knew I was getting a blister on either foot. I crouched down to examine the little red weals and nearly toppled over when Nina pounced on me.

‘What on earth are you doing?’ Nina said.

‘Nothing! Just getting a stone out of my shoe,’ I said, feeling silly.

I looked enviously at Nina’s soft footwear, those French canvas shoes with soles made of rope. She looked marvellous in a navy shirtwaister belted tightly, showing off her curves. She didn’t need to use any socks as padding. I prayed mine would stay tightly tucked inside my bra. I’d die if one worked its way up and started poking through my V-neck.

‘Hey there, Laura!’ Daniel looked incredible, in a glowing white T-shirt and fawn khakis. He wore espadrilles too, fawn to match his trousers.

‘Hey, Daniel,’ I mumbled, trying to sound cool.

Nina was staring at me. ‘Why are you wearing all that make-up when we’re only going to the cinema?’ she demanded.

I blushed like a fool, making my rouge totally redundant.

‘I always wear make-up,’ I said.

‘No you don’t! It looks a bit weird,’ said Nina.

‘No, it doesn’t. I think you look great, Laura,’ said Daniel.

I knew he was only being kind, but I was thrilled. I smiled at him, hoping I hadn’t got lipstick on my teeth.

‘Will you two stop gurning at each other?’ said Nina. ‘Let’s go and eat. I didn’t bother with breakfast and I’m starving.’

I spent ages reading the laminated menu when we were sitting down in a booth, but decided on sausage, beans and chips again. Daniel chose that too.

Nina barely glanced at the menu. ‘I’ll have a cherryade and a Knickerbocker Glory, please,’ she said to the waitress.

I stared at her. Were we having puddings too? And what a pudding! I’d seen pictures of Knickerbocker Glories – glamorous film stars were often photographed tucking into a towering glass of ice cream, generally licking the cherry on the top. But weren’t they desperately expensive? I knew exactly how many coins I had in my purse and they weren’t enough. I still had to pay to get into the cinema. I’d have to pretend I wasn’t hungry and see if the waitress would let me just have a glass of water with my meal.

‘What about your main course, miss?’ the waitress asked Nina. She looked only a couple of years older than us, if that. She was wearing a frumpy black frock with a white apron, and a tiny white cap on her head like a frilly Alice band. I wondered what she felt about wearing that waitress uniform and calling girls like Nina ‘miss’.

‘No main course, thank you,’ said Nina. ‘I’ll steal their chips if I fancy something savoury.’

The waitress shrugged her shoulders and walked off. She was wearing black shoes a little too big for her, so they slipped every time she took a step. I thought her feet must be hurting as much as mine. I surreptitiously slipped both my shoes off under the table. The relief was incredible.

‘Don’t think you’re having any of my chips,’ Daniel told Nina.

‘Or mine,’ I said.

‘Well, you two aren’t getting any ice cream, even if you beg,’ said Nina.

I felt like begging when she was served. It was even bigger than I’d imagined, the fluted glass reaching right up to Nina’s chin. There seemed to be three types of ice cream, vanilla, strawberry and chocolate, with slices of peach, and an enormous whirl of cream with the cherry on top.

‘Yum!’ said Nina complacently, picking up her long spoon and tucking in.

The sausages, beans and chips were OK, but ordinary. I couldn’t help watching Nina eat. She was enjoying herself, licking her lips, even rolling her eyes.

Daniel laughed at her. ‘Stop acting like an idiot, Nina.’

She stuck out her pink tongue. ‘You’re just envious, wishing you’d thought of ordering one,’ she said.

‘Not me,’ said Daniel cheerily.

‘Yes you are. And Laura’s positively drooling,’ said Nina.

Daniel looked at me. ‘Would you like one too, Laura?’

‘Oh, no thank you. I’m not hungry enough for pudding. I mean, dessert.’ I wasn’t sure which was the right word.

‘Tell you what, let’s share one, you and me,’ said Daniel. ‘It’s my treat. I went car-washing up and down our road on Sunday and earned a fortune. Go on, say yes.’

He ordered another Knickerbocker Glory and two spoons, while Nina had a frothy coffee, a little put out. It was so strange sharing with Daniel, taking it in turns. I took tiny spoonfuls at first, but he told me off.

‘Tuck in properly! And you can have the glacé cherry – I don’t like them,’ he said.

He manoeuvred most of the cream to my side of the glass too. I ate and ate and ate. I was truly full now, but the sweet soft ice creams easily slipped down my throat.

‘This is utter bliss,’ I said.

‘It’s a big ice cream, that’s all,’ said Nina. ‘Come on, you two greedy guts, we’ll miss the start of the programme.’

It was agony slipping my feet back into my shoes. They seemed to have risen like dough in the hot cafe. I wondered if I was going to have to go to the cinema barefoot with my shoes in my hand, but at last I managed to cram them on my feet. It was torture walking across the road, but I strode out determinedly, feeling like the little mermaid in the fairy story. It was worth the pain to be with Daniel – and Nina too, of course.

He insisted on paying for the cinema tickets as well as our meal. Nina took it for granted, but I was fervently grateful.

‘I told you, I’m really flush at the moment. Don’t worry, Laura.’

I hoped I might get to sit in the middle, but I ended up beside Nina, at the end of a row. It was a disappointment, but I decided it was maybe just as well, as I was starting to feel a little sick from all the ice cream. At least I’d be able to make a dash for the Ladies room if necessary without disturbing anyone.

I felt unpleasantly queasy throughout the black and white film, a silly detective story, and not much better during the Pathé News, but when The Nun’s Story began I became so absorbed in the film I forgot all about my lurching tummy. Audrey Hepburn was so beautiful – even more beautiful in her nun’s habit, her little elfin face so pure, her eyes enormous and long-lashed. She led such an extraordinary life in the convent. It was so hard and harsh, worse than the strictest school ever, and yet it was somehow glorious too. My heart started thumping. I suddenly desperately wanted to be a nun too.

I felt it would be marvellous to embrace Jesus and live in a House of God. I wanted to lead a simple life with no messy problems. I wouldn’t have to worry about wearing the right clothes and making friends and kissing boys. I’d wear the same traditional outfit every day and I’d be friends with all the sister nuns. There wouldn’t be any boys, especially not French ones who fumbled with me in the dark.

I supposed I would be sad to say goodbye to Mum and Dad, but we seemed to get on each other’s nerves nowadays. I would miss Nina, but when I was a nun I’d shun her as a bad influence. I would miss Daniel too, especially now he seemed to like me, but perhaps we could spend one beautiful day alone together before I went into the convent. When we parted he might kiss me gently on the lips and tell me no other girl would mean so much to him. Then we would wave a sorrowful goodbye and it would be bitter-sweet and splendid.

I was so caught up in this dual romance, with Audrey on the screen and with Daniel in my head, that I cried a little, and had to mop my eyes quickly when the lights went up at the end of the film. I was worried that Nina would mock, but she seemed surprisingly moved herself.

‘That was so wonderful,’ she said, stretching. ‘Do you know, I rather think I’d like to be a nun myself.’

I frowned at her. This was my fantasy! Now if I said anything about wanting to be a nun she’d just think I was copying her.

Daniel laughed. ‘You’re a scream, Nina! You, a nun! You’d be thrown out of the convent the first week for corrupting all the others.’

‘No I wouldn’t. I’d learn all my prayers and chants and what-have-you quick as a wink, and I’d sing so beautifully in chapel that Mother Superior would fall in love with me and promote me to head nun within weeks,’ said Nina, punching him.

‘I thought pride is meant to be a sin,’ I said. ‘Not to mention personal vanity.’

I got punched too, right in my solar plexus. When we went home – the Bertrams’ home, not mine – Daniel suddenly burst into the living room wearing a white tea towel on his head.

‘I want to be a nun too!’ he declared. ‘Don’t you think I’d make a beautiful Sister Daniella?’

We were having so much fun that I actually dared say, ‘See you both tomorrow?’ when I left.

‘Of course,’ said Daniel.

‘No you’re not,’ said Nina.

I thought she was just playing silly games again, but Daniel thumped his head with the palm of his hand.

‘Sorry, Laura, I forgot. Dad’s got a couple of days off, and we’re playing golf,’ he said.

‘Oh. Well. Never mind,’ I said lamely. I couldn’t hide my disappointment.

Nina frowned when I looked at her. ‘And I’m tied up too, not that you seem interested,’ she said sharply. ‘Though I daresay Little Richard might want to play with you if you bribe him with doughnuts.’

‘Don’t be such a cow, Nina,’ said Daniel. He smiled at me apologetically. ‘How about Saturday? We’ll go to the tennis club, OK?’

‘Yes, that would be great,’ I said. ‘Bye then. Bye, Nina.’

She didn’t bother replying. I pretended not to notice. I walked back to Shanty Town with the word Saturday spinning round and round in my head like a broken record.