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doesn’t listen to a word I say. I was tempted to claim it was Icky Blundell, but using her name didn’t work out too well for me last term, so I said, ‘Angharad
Jones.’
    Eventually, she seemed to run out of lecture power and was about to dismiss me, but I said, ‘What about me moving back to Mrs Hatfield’s tutor group? Remember you promised last
term?’
    She flared her nostrils at me. ‘I remember no such thing. You were moved to a different tutor group because you seemed unable to concentrate when you were in a class with Megan.’
    ‘It’s true that Megs can be very distracting, but last term—’
    ‘I said that we would review the situation. I have reviewed it. Despite the slight improvement in your conduct, I think that today’s incident demonstrates admirably why you
won’t be moving back to Mrs Hatfield’s form this term.’
    I may have puffed out my breath in a quiet, non-aggressive sort of way.
    ‘There’s no need for that sort of thing. Faith, this is about your choices. You’re old enough to know what the right thing to do is.’
    Honestly, it’s a wonder that she doesn’t bore herself to death sometimes. It’s probably the reason she’s so pale.
    In the end she let me go and I arrived late to Maths. Maths (and English and Science) are taught in sets and Megs and I are both clever, so actually I still sit next to her for these lessons.
I’m not sure that Miss Ramsbottom has realised. It would be quite funny to point this out to her, but Mum taught me not to wind up people who are stupider than me, so I haven’t
bothered.
    Mrs Baxter was already doing one of her long rambly explanations. I sat down and Megs whispered, ‘What happened?’
    ‘Detention.’
    She shook her head.
    ‘And Ramsbum says I can’t come back to Mrs Mad-as-a-Hatfield’s tutor group.’
    ‘No way!’
    I nodded sadly.
    Mrs B interrupted to tell us to do exercise nine.
    ‘I can’t believe it!’ Megs whispered.
    ‘It’s extremely tragic. I hardly get a minute with you these days.’ I flicked open the textbook and said, ‘Now let’s spend the next hour talking about my birthday
plans.’
WEDNESDAY 11TH JANUARY
    I’m depressed about Ramsbottom going back on her word and not letting me return to my original tutor group with Megs. When I got to registration this morning, I said,
‘Have you heard the news, Mrs Webber? I’m stuck with you lot.’
    Mrs Webber didn’t even stop marking books. She just smiled and said, ‘Well, with a positive attitude like that, I’m sure that we’ll all get along swimmingly.’
    I sighed. ‘Have some sympathy, Mrs W. You know what it’s like when you dangle a tiny girl over the banisters and some old vampire in heels gets all uptight about it and won’t
let you hang out with your best mate.’
    Mrs W gave me a long look. Eventually, she said, ‘Let’s just say I appreciate your disappointment.’
LATER
    Because my mum is always asking me to share my news with her, I thought I’d tell her about my birthday plans. In fact, I gave her a folder containing a guest list,
venue suggestions and a first draft of the menu.
    She folded her arms and said, ‘We can’t afford to hire anywhere for your birthday, Faith.’
    I’m used to this kind of negativity every time I try to follow my dreams, so I said, ‘I suppose we could have it here. We’ll just have to take out most of the furniture to fit
everybody in.’
    ‘No. We’re not having it here either. Not after last year.’
    ‘When are you going to stop going on about that? We fixed the ceiling, Neesha’s hair grew back and Sam didn’t need therapy after all, did he?’
    We both turned to look at Sam who was adding more blood to his painting of an explosion in a pet shop.
    ‘At least not for that anyway.’
    Mum sighed. ‘The point is I don’t think we can trust you to have another party for quite some time.’
    ‘What about a really small one? Just fifty or sixty of my closest