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really enjoyed coming up with the perfect blends of essential oils for them.
    I took out my very favourite bath treats and lined them up on the side of the tub. Just the sight of them made me feel better, and when I poured a big slug of mandarin bath foam under the running water, the whole room filled with such a punchy burst of citrus it made my head spin.
    I got in and washed with my home-made soap, breathing in its delicious jasmine and ylang-ylang smell (sometimes I use formulas from books or the net, but that’s one of the recipes I made up completely by myself). Then I lay back with the last bit of my blueberry face mask on, which seemed to be okay even though it had been out of the fridge for a day. I closed my eyes and let the beautiful aromas swirl around me.
    When I sat up again half an hour later and reached for my olive grain foot scrub (my poor feet needed it after spending all day in the soggy brown loafers) I felt a lot better. A week. We had a week. It wasn’t long, but perhaps it would be long enough.

On Thursday morning I made double-sure I had my make-up bag with me before leaving the flat. Even though it was hot and sunny, I wasn’t taking any risks. Luckily, I’d persuaded Mum to just let me wear my black skirt and plain white shirt as uniform, until I could get over to Summer’s and try on some of her stuff. Grace backed me up about everyone’s casual gear, although she also said I looked like a waitress and that she’d stick with the pea-green look, thanks very much.
    Just as Grace and I reached the school gate, a shiny motorbike came roaring up.
    â€œWow, cool, who’s that?” I gasped. Grace tutted and informed me that she didn’t have time to stand around ogling boys (yes, she did actually use that word!). Then she hurried off to get some books from the library before the bell went.
    The boy on the back of the bike got off and took off his helmet. My stomach did a full 360-degree flip when I saw it was Marco. Then it flipped right back again as the slim girl rider, who was dressed all in leathers, took off her own helmet and shook out her long dark hair, just like you see in films. Erm, next question: who was
that
?
    Before I knew it, she’d stowed Marco’s helmet, given him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, put her helmet back on and roared away. And now he was coming towards me. He looked even more gorgeous than before (if that was even possible!) in a vintage leather jacket. I tried to aim for a laid-back teasing tone, the way Summer talks to him. “So, is that your girlfriend then?” I said. “She must be at least seventeen to ride. Got yourself an older woman, have you?” Argh! It sounded more like an interrogation.
    To my surprise, he looked embarrassed. “Much older,” he mumbled. “That was my mum.”
    â€œYour mum?” I gasped. “OMG, did she have you when she was twelve?!”
    He shrugged. “Sixteen.”
    â€œI’m so relieved it wasn’t your girlfriend!” I cried before I could stop myself. ARGH! What an idiot! “Because…erm…you’ve got your GSCEs starting next year so you need to focus on that, and the band and everything…” I mumbled lamely.
    He grinned. “Don’t worry, Abs, I’ve only got eyes for you,” he said, flinging his arm round me.
    I laughed and nudged him hard, trying to act like it was just friendly mucking around. You know, as if my knees weren’t about to give way at any moment.
    â€œIs your dad into bikes too, then?” I managed to ask.
    It was just for something to say, but I’d obviously hit a nerve. Marco’s arm dropped to his side and the smile fell from his face. “He’s not around much,” he mumbled. “I mean, he is, but… Him and Mum have been on and off for years. He comes and goes. Goes, mainly.”
    â€œOh, right,” I said. He looked so awkward that I didn’t