“But it’s no different to any of the others. Everyone wears these.”
“I said, go change.”
“But it’s mine. I paid for it, with my Saturday money.”
“I don’t care. No sister of mine is going to be seen wearing that. You can take it back to the shop and change it for something more respectable. And what’s that on your face?”
She blinks, touching her cheek. “I just wanted to try….”
“Wash it off. You look like a cheap tart.”
“But all the other girls wear makeup.”
“You're not other girls. You’re my sister. Now go clean that muck off.”
In her bedroom, she sits at her rose- pink dressing table, cleaning away the touch of eye-shadow, the hint of lip-gloss she was wearing. From its place under the flounced drapes, the teddy bear Stephen bought her when she was six watches her beady-eyed. Tigge
