LYDIA’S FIRST EXAM was French and it was weird to come into school in the afternoon, in her uniform but without anything but her crib sheet, a pencil case and a bottle of water, and to wait outside near the door to the hall while all the other students in the other years were sitting in lessons. It felt as if she hadn’t been in school for ages, even though it had been only a week. A week of nearly constant revision, most of it alone, some of it with Avril. Their conversation was stilted, but Avril didn’t seem to notice.
Lydia hadn’t thought she would be really nervous for her exams – especially not for French, as French was easy – but there was something gnawing at her stomach, and she was sweating under her school jumper. Mrs Fowler was near the entrance to the hall, directing the students where to wait in the corridor, checking their pencil cases and water bottles, reminding everyone they’d have to throw away their crib sheets before they went in. ‘You’re taking AS?’ she asked Lydia, checking her clipboard. ‘Wait with the sixth form, please, instead of with Year Eleven. Quiet outside the examination hall, please.’
At first Lydia had felt silly in French lessons, as the only one wearing school uniform, but she’d got over that by October. Now, though, standing with a handful of students in jeans and T-shirts or summer dresses, separated by several metres from the other people in her year who were taking French GCSE, she felt silly again. Avril wasn’t taking French and didn’t have any exams till tomorrow, but Lydia knew most of the students waiting to take their exams, and it was odd not to be standing with them.
Bailey stood across the corridor, clutching a bottle of water. Lydia hadn’t seen her since that day before study leave. She noticed that Bailey was wearing black socks. She was also talking in a low voice with Erin, who wasn’t actually rolling her eyes or curling her lip. In fact, the two of them seemed to be quite friendly.
Well, Bailey must be pleased, anyway. She’d seemed to want to impress Erin.
Just then, the two of them glanced up and caught Lydia looking at them. Bailey blushed and an enormous grin grew slowly on Erin’s face.
‘Good luck,’ Lydia mouthed to them.
Erin blew her a kiss, and giggled.
The sight hit Lydia like a cold weight in her stomach.
A kiss? What did that mean? Had Bailey said something?
Bailey’s head ducked and Erin turned to Olivia, standing beside her, and said something Lydia couldn’t hear.
‘Stop the talking,’ called Mrs Fowler, ‘and sixth form, you may enter the hall. Remember, no talking, no noise whatsoever in the examination room.’
‘Don’t be nervous,’ said the person behind Lydia in the queue, a lower sixth boy called Paolo. ‘It’ll be fine. That said, I’m shit scared.’
He smiled at her and then they were through the door. Lydia found her seat, with her name card on it, scratch paper already laid out waiting for her. She watched as the GCSE group filed into the room, but none of them glanced at her. They were all intent on finding their own places.
It was nothing, she told herself. It was nothing. It was Erin being flamboyant, blowing her a kiss for luck. She was sitting quite near the front of the room and couldn’t see anyone she knew around her. She looked over her shoulder, and was tapped sharply on the other shoulder.
‘Keep your face forward,’ said Mr Singh, and he put an exam booklet on her desk.
Lydia drew in a deep breath and concentrated on writing her name and student number on the booklet. Concentrated on keeping her heart-rate down, on thinking in French. Erin had probably blown sixteen million kisses today. She was a big kiss-blower.
‘You may begin,’ said Mr Singh.
Erin caught up with her at the end of the corridor. She had Olivia and Sophie with her, though no sign of Bailey. ‘How’d the A level go?’
Lydia nearly sagged with relief. ‘It was all right, I think. How was yours?’
‘It didn’t go so well. I think I could have used a kiss for luck.’
Sophie giggled and Lydia nearly stumbled. Erin was smiling, that mean smile that she often had.
‘Un baiser,’ said Olivia. ‘Isn’t that how you say it at A level? Très romantique.’
‘Where are you going now?’ Erin asked her. ‘Going to find Bailey? Or Avril?’
‘I’ve got another exam,’ Lydia managed.
‘All right, see you later, darling. Ta ta.’ Erin wiggled her fingers at Lydia, and both Sophie and Olivia giggled this time.