Twenty to seven, Monday, beginning of last week of June.

I’ve really done it now – I’m in the biggest trouble of my life. And you know what the worst bit is? It wasn’t even fun.

Here’s what happened. I was walking out of Boots this afternoon when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and this woman said, ‘I need you to come back inside with me now.’

I looked at her with my most innocent face and asked her why, but she just took me by the elbow and sort of marched me back inside, and I thought it might be better not to make a fuss so I went with her, hoping she couldn’t hear my thumping heart.

She wasn’t wearing a uniform, just a normal jumper and skirt, so if anyone saw us I could say afterwards that she was my aunt, or something. At least, that’s what I thought then. Anyway, she brought me into a small room and sat me down, and asked me to empty the pockets of my school blazer, which I did, since I hadn’t really any choice.

I took out a comb and a lipstick and half a pack of wine gums and my wallet and a small bottle of shampoo, the travel size, and I put them all on the desk between us. She picked up the bottle of shampoo, which was the only thing that looked like it was new, and she asked me if I’d paid for it, which was a pretty dumb question, considering that she knew well that I hadn’t.

So I just sat there and said nothing, and did my best to look bored, even though I was pretty scared. My first time shoplifting, and I had to be caught. I wondered what prison food tasted like.

Yes, I stole the shampoo. I know I said I’d be too terrified, but I was so mad at Dad after the whole computer thing, I just decided that it might be a bit of a laugh if I could get away with it. I didn’t think too much about what might happen if I was caught.

To make a long story short, Dad was called from work to come and get me, and I knew as soon as I saw his face that I was in big trouble. He spoke very politely to the woman and apologised for his terrible daughter (he didn’t actually say terrible, but I knew he was thinking it). The woman said they wouldn’t press charges, since this was my first offence, but that she would be contacting the school to let them know.

Bugger, bugger, bugger.

I hadn’t told Bumble what I was planning – one of the few things I kept from him. I kind of knew this was one thing he wouldn’t go along with. But now Smelly Nelly is going to find out – and what if she says it to Chloe? I can just imagine the fun Catherine Eggleston and Trudy Higgins will have if they ever get to hear about this.

To be fair to Dad, he did his best to persuade the woman not to inform the school. He said I was about to start secondary school, and it would be a blot on my character if they heard about this, and he was sure I’d learnt my lesson now, and other stuff like that. But the woman wouldn’t agree not to tell the school. She said they treated shoplifting as a very serious offence, and I had to be made an example of. In the end, Dad gave up.

He didn’t open his mouth on the way home, and I thought it was probably a good idea to say nothing either, so it sure was a quiet journey. As soon as we got inside the house, though, he made up for it. He asked me if I was trying to end up in jail. He told me he was shocked and disappointed in me, said I only had to ask if I needed more pocket money.

He went on like this for about ten minutes, and even though he didn’t get mad at me, like he’d done with the computer business, I knew he was really upset. His face was white and pinched looking, and his voice was tight, as if he was trying hard not to lose his temper. And somehow, it was much worse than if he’d shouted at me.

Just as he was winding down, the phone rang, and he said, ‘You’d better answer it,’ and it was really hard to talk to Mam and not tell her what happened – which of course I couldn’t. Imagine what she’d say. Luckily she couldn’t stay long on the phone, because she was on her way to a meeting.

After I hung up, Dad came out of the kitchen and sent me upstairs and said he’d bring up something to eat later. Something tells me it won’t be a pepperoni and pineapple pizza.

And you know what? It wasn’t even the right kind of shampoo – it was one for greasy hair, which I don’t have. I only noticed that when it was sitting on the store detective’s desk. That’s kind of funny, when you think about it.