Plum chimes in. ‘Everyone in St Aidan knows the story. Your dad was a long-distance bus driver.’
Clemmie carries on. ‘One day he took a coach-load of holidaymakers to Chester le Street and didn’t come back.’
Plum nods. ‘We were six, because the day your mum came in to tell school about it I remember Mrs Banks, our Year One teacher, letting Sophie choose the story.’
It’s awful when the village knows my family history better than I do. I suppose Clemmie lived in the same row of fishermen’s cottages as we did, so she was bound to know.
I look at Sophie. ‘But surely that can’t be it? Had they argued? Was there someone else?’ The questions flash through my mind.
Sophie shakes her head. ‘He was away so often with his job, for a long time it didn’t register with me that he’d gone.’ She looks at me. ‘Mum played it down. You were younger, and he always took more notice of me than you because I was an attention seeker.’
I grin at her for that admission. ‘By the time we were old enough to ask it was ancient history.’
Sophie nods. ‘It’s similar with Milla. Her dad didn’t want any involvement and that was a big thing before she was born, but we never think about him now.’
Which is the perfect opening to move this on. I give Clemmie a look and she picks it up and runs.
‘You’ve given up on changing your colour scheme, then?’
Sophie stares down at her box-fresh turquoise hoodie. ‘Whatever I choose Milla will criticise it.’
I look at Sophie. ‘We’ve thought of a fun way to make Milla think again with her criticism.’
Sophie sits back in her seat. ‘Don’t keep it to yourself! I’ll consider anything!’
Plum sits forward. ‘We’ve all noticed that in Milla’s eyes Aunty Florence can do no wrong.’
Clemmie nods. ‘You’re definitely up there with the goddesses, Floss.’
I take a deep breath and turn to Sophie. ‘How would it be if we change you – by turning you into me?’
Clemmie’s laughing. ‘If you’re wearingFloss’sclothes, Milla won’t criticise those.’
Plum’s nodding. ‘With a whole new persona it’ll be easier for you to break free from your aqua habit too.’
Sophie’s voice rises. ‘Does it have to bethisradical?’
I sense that she’s wriggling. ‘Two strong characters like you and Milla, anything less wouldn’t work.’
She blows out a breath. ‘Okay, I get that. But what about my hair? Much as I’d love to do this, I draw the line at dye.’
I wiggle my eyebrows. ‘There’s no need to change your colour. Luckily for you I still have my chemo wig.’ This is the master stroke that will make it extra special.
Sophie lets out a murmur. ‘I finally get the shiny brown swishy hair I always wanted.’
I laugh. ‘To make it more of an event, I thought we could all go to the hairdressers and watch you have the wig styled into something slightly more like yourself?’ I can’t help smiling. ‘We’ll make a pact with Milla. Your challenge will be to last two weeks as me. If you make it, you can go back to being yourself afterwards, and Milla has to back off.’
Clemmie laughs. ‘The more I hear, the more I like it.’
I carry on. ‘After you’ve had fourteen days rocking the world in my colour-pop dresses and playsuits, you might see there’s more to life than Sophie-May blue.’
Sophie groans. ‘Playsuits?Really?’
‘That’s the part I’m looking forward to most. Especially my Day-Glo orange ones.’ I take pity on her. ‘Don’t worry, they’ll be a lot longer on you than they are on me, and we can hitch my mini dresses in with belts.’
Clemmie’s eyes are bright. ‘So what do you think, Soph? Are you in?’
Sophie sighs. ‘Do I have a choice?’
