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supermarket was at the edge of town, very close to the moors. Thanks to the traffic, it had taken them ages to get there – at least fifteen minutes – but Lydia wished fervently that the journey could have lasted until everything was closed. The supermarket was usually only six or seven minutes’ drive from the house and Lydia’s mum wasn’t exactly a Sunday driver. According to Dad she was more of a speed demon! And ever since she and Dad had bought their brand new car a couple of months before, there’d been no stopping her!
    Lydia looked out beyond the car-park to the moors. Although dull grey clouds filled the sky above the Tarwich shops and houses, the sky over the moors blazed pink and orange. These colours moved around each other in a slow, fluid dance. Lydia felt a peculiar prickling sensation at the back of her neck. She rubbed her nape as she stared at the strange sky. She felt oddly attracted to the sight and yet, at the same time, it gave her a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Someone laughing nearby brought Lydia out of her daydream. She hastily looked down.
    Don’t let me see anyone from school. Please .
    Maybe, if she said it enough times, it would come true.
    ‘Another fun-packed Saturday getting crushed at Sainsbury’s,’ Mum grumbled.
    Moments later, she passed the food trolley to Lydia and they all entered the supermarket.
    ‘Danny, just behave yourself, OK. I don’t want any of your nonsense today,’ Mum said.
    ‘But I haven’t done anything,’ Danny protested.
    ‘Let’s just keep it that way, shall we?’ Mum said.
    ‘Is that fair or what?’ Danny huffed. ‘I’m being told off and I haven’t even done anything.’
    Danny muttered under his breath for at least an aisle and a half. For the first couple of aisles, Lydia hardly dared to look up. Everyone would be looking at her. They would all know what she was supposed to have done.
    Don’t look up, Lydia. Then you won’t have to face anyone. You won’t have to see that word in everyone’s eyes, on everyone’s faces. Thief . . .
    ‘Lyddy, have you got a headache? Is the light hurting your eyes?’ Danny whispered.
    ‘No. Why?’
    ‘You keep looking down,’ Danny said.
    ‘Shut up and leave me alone,’ Lydia hissed.
    They turned down the third aisle – full of slices of bloody beef and chilled lamb and cooked chickens, all wrapped in polystyrene and cellophane. And then Lydia saw her. Anne. With her mum.
    The only sound in the whole of the supermarket was Lydia’s blood roaring through her body. She stared, horror-stricken. It took a few moments for Anne to realize that she was being watched. Her head turned and her eyes met Lydia’s. As Lydia watched, Anne’s eyes narrowed and a tiny smile played over her lips. Lydia lowered her head immediately, every atom of her body on fire.
    ‘Mum, I don’t feel well. Can I go and sit in the car?’ Lydia whispered.
    With a frown, Mum placed a hand on Lydia’s forehead.
    ‘You don’t have a temperature,’ she said.
    ‘I feel terrible. Please.’
    ‘No, I don’t think so. Breathing in this recycled air-conditioning is a lot healthier than breathing in carbon monoxide fumes in the car-park,’ Mum said firmly.
    ‘Mum, Anne Turner from my class is in front of us. Please let me leave,’ Lydia pleaded.
    ‘No. I’d say she’s all the more reason to stand your ground,’ Mum replied.
    And that was the end of that. Lydia had no choice but to keep pushing the trolley. She kept her eyes on her hands in front of her.
    ‘Mum, that’s the girl I was telling you about,’ Anne said at the top of her voice. ‘That’s the thief!’
    There was no way everyone in the aisle didn’t hear Anne. Feeling sick, Lydia looked around. Everyone was looking at her.
    Anne’s mum pulled her daughter away from Lydia as if she thought that being a supposed thief was contagious.
    ‘Don’t you dare call my sister a thief,’ Danny said furiously.
    His voice was even louder than