On the night of the Christmas concert, I spent longer than usual getting ready. I knew there were going to be a ton of people there and, while the most important thing to me was to sing well, I thought that looking nice couldn’t hurt. As the time to leave got nearer, the fluttery feeling in my stomach got worse.

Lauren called me to say good luck. ‘Are you still coming?’ I asked. I tried not to sound pushy, but I really, really wanted her to be there.

‘Of course I am,’ she said. ‘I can’t wait to watch you.’

For once, Mum was super strict about everyone being ready on time. When Lucy tried to dash back into the house for something, she grabbed her round the waist and bundled her into the car. ‘Amelia has to be punctual,’ she said firmly.

‘What did you want anyway?’ Ella asked Lucy when we’d got going.

‘I need something to read,’ Lucy whined.

‘It’s not a long drive,’ Mum said. ‘We’ll be at Amelia’s concert in five minutes.’

‘That’s what I need the reading for! I’ve been to Amelia’s singing before. It goes on and on and on.’

‘Lucy,’ Mum said in a warning tone.

‘There’s probably something to read in the car anyway,’ Chloe said. ‘Everything else is in here.’

She’s right. Our car is extremely messy. The footwells are full of junk: crisp packets, mini juice cartons, apple cores, lost gloves, pens, toys, flip-flops. Chloe swears she saw a mouse once.

Lucy started rummaging through it all and I ran through my song in my head until we arrived at school.

Performers had to go in a different door to the audience so I said goodbye in the car park.

Mum gave me a quick squeeze. ‘Your father sent me a text earlier. He should be here any minute. Good luck, sweetheart.’

‘You’ll be brilliant,’ Ella said.

‘Yeah, break a leg!’ Chloe said.

Lucy’s head was buried in A Guide to British Butterflies, so I gave up on good wishes from her and walked away on rather wobbly legs.

‘Don’t forget what I said about farting on stage!’ Chloe called.

I pretended I wasn’t related to her.

Before I went to what Mr Garcia was calling the green room but was actually Miss Espinoza’s Spanish room, I stuck my head in at the back of the hall. The rows of chairs were already filling up. It was loud and crowded and hot. I wondered if I could get someone to open some windows; when Lauren gets hot, it makes her feel worse.

In fact, the whole set-up wasn’t exactly ideal for her. The chairs were hard and the concert was going to last for hours. I remembered the last time Lauren had a late night; she’d slept in the next day until lunchtime. If she came tonight, I wondered if she’d make it in to school tomorrow for the last day of term. The last day is always really good fun. Lauren was particularly looking forward to it because Mrs Holt had put us in a team with Cute Josh for an end-of-term quiz.

For a moment, I was frozen with indecision. I really wanted Lauren to come. But then I realised that I really wanted things to be the best they could be for her. And I knew that meant choosing school tomorrow with Christmas presents and cards from her friends, and chocolates from the teachers, and doing the quiz with Josh. Not the long, hot crush of tonight. So I called her.

‘What do you mean you don’t want me to come?’ she asked. ‘I was just about to leave.’

‘It’s not that I don’t want you to, but it’s a late night. I’m not on till near the end. It’s going to tire you out, isn’t it?’

‘Maybe, but I don’t mind; it’ll be worth it.’

‘I don’t want you to miss tomorrow.’

She was quiet for a moment. ‘I don’t mind,’ she said again. She’d obviously already realised that tonight might take its toll and I was really touched that she’d decided she was prepared to miss the last day of term to see me sing. But I wasn’t going to let her make that sacrifice.

‘My mind is made up,’ I said. ‘I need you here tomorrow so you’d better get your sleep tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll get Dad to film me singing because obviously you won’t want to miss it completely.’

She laughed. ‘Obviously. But are you sure you’re OK with me not being there?’

‘I’ll miss you, but this way we get the last day of term together. And look on the bright side: once it’s on film, you’ll be able to watch me performing over and over again.’

‘Fantastic.’

When that was done, I sent a text to my dad to make sure he videoed me singing. Then I sent another text to Suvi to get her to make sure my dad looked at his messages.

Inside the green room, everyone was getting excited. There was a lot of giggling and people flapping about when they didn’t really need to be flapping about.

I raised an eyebrow at Bartek to show that I thought they were all being childish, but I’ve got to admit that my insides were flapping about a bit themselves. I hoped I’d feel a bit less sick once I’d got onstage.

Mr Garcia came in and glared at us. He looked awful. There were rings around his eyes, his skin looked waxy and when he said, ‘Quiet, please,’ his voice broke. I thought he was going to give us a lecture, but he clearly wasn’t up to it because he just took us through a quick warm-up and finished with, ‘Let’s get this over with.’

Fortunately, Mr O’Brien obviously felt a lot less doomed about the whole thing. He beamed at us and said, ‘This is it! Have fun!’ And led us out onstage.

The audience fell silent. We shuffled into our positions and Mr Garcia counted us in for ‘Walking in a Winter Wonderland’. The audience seemed to really enjoy it; Mr O’Brien was right about getting people in the mood with something they know.

The more we sang, the more the audience seemed to warm up. Some of them were even swaying and mouthing along with the words. I looked out into the hall for my family. I spotted Lucy first; she was reading a road map. She was sitting with Mum on one side and Chloe on the other. Dad was next, then Suvi with Kirsti on her lap. But on the other side of Mum was a gap. Where Lauren should have been. It did give me a little pang. But I’d realised that Lauren was going to have to make decisions about what she could do and what was the best way to use her limited energy. She wasn’t going to be able to be there at all the places I would like her to. But I knew that she wanted to be with me. And that’s how things were. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.

Finally, it was time for my duet with Bartek.

I stepped out of my row and moved up to the front spot. My legs managed to get me all the way there without buckling.

I looked at Bartek; as always, he was grinning away at me. I tried to smile back, but my lips stuck to my teeth so it was probably more like a werewolf snarl, but there was no time to think about that because Mr Garcia was counting the orchestra in and I needed to concentrate.

I took one last look at my smiling family, then I focused back on Mr Garcia’s conducting hand, took a deep breath and started to sing.