I’m twelve years old and I’m standing in a supermarket. I’ve been going to school at Bayview College in Portland. I’m in year seven.

I’ve been helping Mum with the shopping. We are at the check-out; I’m unpacking her trolley because she’s not well. That woman who owns the ice-cream store Zucker stands behind us in line. She is big and has a blond bob, wrinkled face, too wrinkled for her age.