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Mr Flanagan read out the results of the tests. Kelly was top of the class. ‘Congratulations, Kelly, you certainly seem to have an aptitude for maths.’

‘Thanks,’ Kelly said quietly.

Behind her she heard Ted hiss, ‘Looks like you’ve got competition, Melissa.’

Kelly watched Melissa’s face redden. ‘Shut up, you retard.’

Melissa gripped her exam sheet and stared at the result – ninety-fiveper cent. How the hell had this stupid scholarship loser beaten her? Maths was her thing. Being smart was her USP. She wasn’t beautiful like Taylor, she was smart.

It was bad enough having to look at Taylor’s perfect face and body every morning at breakfast these past six months, now that her mum had married Taylor’s dad, but to have her place at the top of the class threatened was too much.

Even Taylor’s dad, Stephen, had been impressed with her results in her summer tests – she’d got over ninety in every subject. He’d told Taylor to try to be more like her step-sister, which was ironic because Melissa’s mother, Patrice, spent her whole time telling Melissa to try to be more like Taylor.

‘Maybe if you stuck to rice cakes and cut out sugar and carbohydrates you could be svelte likeTaylor,’ Patrice had told her, as she’d admired her own slim figure in her dressing-room mirror. Melissa had inherited her father’s figure, short and square. She was never going to be thin or beautiful like Taylor. No matter how hard she dieted, her thighsremained chunky, and no amount of mascara or eyeshadow made her small eyes look bigger.

Melissa wanted to shout at her mother, ‘You didn’tlook so great before all the liposuction and the Botox and the eye lift and the nose job transformed your face, so give me a break!’

But she never disagreed with her mother. Patrice was not someone you crossed. She was razor sharp and very successful. When Melissa’s dad had died suddenly of a heart attack fifteen years ago, Patrice had taken over his property company and grown it into a multi-million-euroempire. She worked incredibly hard and was always impeccably groomed. She expected Melissa to do and be the same.

Melissa knew that, but it wasn’t easy and sometimes she just wished her mother could say, ‘Well done,’ but whatever she did was never enough. Melissa knew her mother was proud to have a smart daughter, but she wanted perfection, and it was exhausting.

Once, last year, when Melissahad complained that Patrice was too hard on her, her mother had grabbed her shoulder and shaken her hard.

‘Listen to me. When your father died I had a choice. Sink or swim. I was devastated, but I dragged myself out and went into that company knowing nothing. I didn’t just keep it going, I made it bigger and better. I wasn’t beautiful either, but I made the most of myself. When you’re not good-looking,you need to be smart so you can take on whatever life throws at you. That’s why I push you so hard. If you’re successful, men will find you a lot more attractive, believe me. Stephen Lyons wouldn’t have looked at me if I was just another forty-year-old woman, but he admired me because of what I’ve achieved and then he fell in love with me. I want that for you, Melissa, so stop complainingand work harder.’

Now bloody Kelly was threatening her position. Sheshouldn’t even be in this school – she was just a charity case. Everyone knew she was only there because her brother was good at football.

Melissa felt a hand on her arm. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll come first in the midterms,’ Alicia said.

Melissa jerked away. ‘I know that. I got one question wrong because I misread it,’she lied, and crumpled the test paper in her hand.

She’d make damn sure she came first in the midterm tests. Getting straight As was the only thing that made her feel good about herself. She’d always been top of the class at St Jude’s and no one, least of all some scholarship scumbag, was going to take that from her, not if she had anything to do with it.

Kelly tried to stop the hockey ballbut it whizzed past her.

‘Come on, Kelly, stick down. It’s not complicated,’ Mrs Parson shouted.

‘It’s a stupid bloody game,’ Kelly muttered. Who the hell wanted to run around chasing a small ball with a stupid curly stick? Kelly hated hockey. She didn’t see the point of it and she was rubbish at it.

‘What games do you like, Kelly? Football like your brother? You know football is for lowlifesand knackers,’ Melissa said. Her two stupid sidekicks, Lara and Grace, laughed.

‘Well, then, you should be good at it,’ Kelly snapped. She wanted to smack her over the head with the hockey stick. She was sick of Melissa needling her all the time and constantly reminding everyone that she was a scholarship girl. It had been non-stop for the past month. Everywhere she went, Melissa was there withsome catty remark or sending WhatsApp messages with comments like ‘Just sending this out so our new scholarship girl will know what’s going on.’ Kellywanted to tell her to fuck right off, but she knew that if she got into trouble it could affect the scholarship, and her mum would go mental.

‘We also wear trainers that don’t look like we have special needs. Yours look like you got them in a skip.Then again, charity cases obviously have to shop in charity shops or dumpsters.’ Melissa turned away just as Mrs Parson came over to see what was going on.

The bitch. Kelly’s face burnt with rage and embarrassment. She muttered to Mrs Parson that she’d twisted her ankle and fake-hobbled off the pitch.

Kelly went straight to the changing room, ripped off her hockey skirt and top and put on heruniform. Then she headed out of the school. She’d had enough humiliation. She needed to get as far away as she could from those vicious cows.

Kelly got off the bus and took the long way around to Woodside. She couldn’t go anywhere near the salon in case Sarah saw her, and she avoided the shop in case Mum or Granddad spotted her. There would be hell to pay if Lucy found out she had mitched offschool. She’d only skipped double gym, so she was hoping she’d get away with it.

The problem was, there was no hiding here. Kelly kept bumping into people she knew.

‘Ah, there she is. Hi, Kelly, how’s the posh new school going? Your mum is very proud of you. Do you like it?’ Mary Harris asked.

Kelly didn’t want to let Mum down but Mrs Harris had known her since she was born. ‘I’m not that keento be honest.’