You’ve been gone such ages!’ said Rochelle. ‘I thought you weren’t ever coming back. And it’s getting dark and what are we going to do?’ ‘Candles!’ I said, jiggling them at her. ‘From my friend Mary’s mum.’ I shivered. I hadn’t told Jude about the slap or the crying. It seemed too private and shameful. I didn’t see how anyone could hit a little girl like Mary. Maybe I’d made a mistake. I didn’t see the slap, I only thought I heard it. Perhaps Mary tripped over, bumped herself and started crying. Her mum couldn’t have hit her. She was the kindest sweetest mother in all the world. I wondered about my own mum. ‘Do you think Mum’s had the baby yet?’ I asked. ‘How long does it take?’ ‘Don’t ask me,’ said Jude, with a shudder. ‘It can take ages. Days, sometimes,’ said Rochelle. ‘It’s the worst pain you can ever imagine. Far far far worse than the worst period pain ever, though of course you wouldn’t know about that, Dixie.’ I thought about my worst pain ever, when some girls at my old school had punched me in the stomach until I was sick.
