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few large houses remained, set behind high walls, and though their proximity to Wimbledon Common still made them desirable, her mother said that because they were now surrounded by council property, they had depreciated greatly in value.
    Tina’s family didn’t own one of these big houses. They rented a council flat and of course Jenny knew this was why her mother disapproved of their friendship. Unlike them, the Hammonds weren’t well off, but Jenny hated her mother’s snobbishness and would have swapped places with her friend like a shot. Tina’s mum was kind, didn’t suffer from nerves and wasn’t obsessed with housework. She was ashort, tubby woman who was full of laughter, her welcome always so warm that over the years Jenny had often found the cramped flat a much-needed escape from the coldness of her own home life.
    ‘Jenny! Jenny, over here!’
    Jenny dashed across the road to join her friend.
    ‘Where have you been?’ asked Tina. ‘I waited in on Saturday but you didn’t come round.’
    ‘I’m sorry, but my father came home for the weekend.’
    ‘That explains it then. Thankfully mine didn’t show his face.’
    ‘What do you mean? Your dad’s nice,’ Jenny protested. Tina’s father was a long-distance lorry driver who was rarely in when she called round, but from what she’d seen he was full of affection for both Tina and her older sister.
    ‘Huh, so he’s fooled you too. Oh, I don’t want to talk about my dad. Change the subject, Jenny.’
    Jenny was puzzled, but nevertheless did as Tina asked. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t come round, but you didn’t wait in all day for me, did you?’
    ‘No, I gave up by one o’clock and went to buy a new record. T-Rex has got two in the charts now, but I only had enough money for one. Ooh, I just love Marc Bolan.’
    ‘Yes, I know,’ Jenny said, smiling ruefully. ‘You hardly talk about anything else.’
    ‘Well, he is gorgeous.’
    Jenny wasn’t going to argue. Tina was absolutely mad about Marc Bolan and her bedroom walls were festooned with his posters. However, even had Jenny had an idol, she would never have been allowed to decorate her room with pictures of them. It was another thing that emphasised the many differences between Tina’s home life and her own.
    ‘I got a shock this morning,’ Jenny said. ‘My mother’s coming with me to see the careers adviser.’
    ‘Is she? Mine isn’t.’
    This was the last thing Jenny expected to hear. ‘I thought your mummy would insist on being there.’
    ‘Mummy! Gawd, you’d think I’d be used to the way you talk by now, but sometimes it still sounds so funny and posh. Anyway, as for my mum , all she did was to offer a bit of advice. She said to forget Germaine Greer and the feminist movement because it’s all nonsense. Instead I should take anything on offer with decent pay and it’ll do until the right man comes along.’
    ‘And will you?’
    ‘I’ll take anything that pays well, but not for those reasons. What about you? What sort of job are you looking for?’
    ‘I’m not sure, but one day I’d like to earn enough money to rent a place of my own.’
    ‘Do you really mean that, Jen? If you do, I wouldn’t mind sharing it with you.’
    ‘Why would you want to leave home?’
    ‘’Cos my sister’s said she’s moving out soon. That’ll just leave me for him to start on.’
    Jenny didn’t have a clue what Tina was talking about and asked, ‘Who’ll start on you? And start what?’
    ‘I…I can’t tell you. He…he’ll kill me.’
    ‘Tina, I’m your friend, your best friend, and there’s nothing you can’t tell me. If you want me to keep it to myself, I will, and you know that.’
    At these words, as though a dam had burst, Tina haltingly told her. Jenny’s stomach lurched in horror. She had envied her friend, had thought of her home as a haven, but now realised it was all an illusion. It was horrific to hear, dreadful, and as Tina continued to talk, Jenny felt the last