Page 30 of The Summer That Changed Us

Katie summoned up a smile; they were so kind, so well-meaning and it sounded like Robyn was just as in need of someone to confide in as she was. Even so, it was very difficult to break the habit of a lifetime and open up.

‘Same here.’ Grace crossed one arm over her chest. ‘Scouts honour.’

Katie couldn’t help laughing; she was pretty sure that wasn’t how scouts made their promises.

‘It messed my life up in lots of ways, but I’ve done my best to move on. Then a few days ago, the whole thing reared its ugly head again.’ She pulled the folded photographs and the notes out of her bag and spread them on the rug. ‘I got sent this lot through the post. I think I’ve got a blackmailer.’

‘What?’ Both gasping in disbelief, Grace and Robyn picked up the photographs and read the notes.

Katie held her breath, watching the shock on their faces as they realised the naked girl in the pictures was none other than Katie Small, owner of a little underwear shop by the sea. Her stomach churned; how differently her life would have turned out without those pictures.

At school, she’d been brave and confident, not afraid to share her opinion, the girl on the debating team who never minded having to defend the juiciest, most controversial position.

You’d make a great barrister, her dad had muttered once, after tackling her on the state of her bedroom, only to find himself backing away, hands raised and full of apology after she’d lambasted him with her arguments. And Katie had liked that idea: a career spent building a convincing case to defend the innocent sounded just up her street. Her parents couldn’t have been prouder.

‘Our Catherine is head girl at the grammar school,’ Mum and Dad would preen to their friends in the pub.

‘Catherine’s got a place at one of the top universities. To read law,’ they’d tell colleagues in the textiles factory where they’d both worked since they were sixteen. Mum as a head machinist and Dad warehouse manager.

Josie and Brian Small had put their only child on a pedestal, which made her fall from grace that much further and more painful for all of them. She frowned at that; she was being unfair. Her parents’ love and support had never faltered. It was Katie who had struggled to cope with the aftermath; all they’d wanted was for her to be happy. And she had been, mostly, right up until the first envelope had arrived.

‘Bloody hell,’ Robyn whistled under her breath. ‘You’ve been dealing with this sort of crap all on your own?’

Katie nodded glumly. ‘I’m so ashamed. I was duped into doing that shoot. I was very naïve back then, a complete swot at school. I’d never even had a serious boyfriend. I went from Miss Goody Two Shoes to Miss Glamour Model in the space of a couple of hours. Ever since then, the thought that I’d be labelled as something I’m not has haunted me.’

‘You shouldn’t feel ashamed, you were only a kid,’ Grace said, all trace of humour drained from her face. ‘Anyone can see you aren’t complicit in these photos. The shame lies with the photographer. And whichever low-life scumbag sent you these notes.’

Robyn was holding the naked photograph. ‘I never looked that beautiful, even before … I’m staring, I’m sorry, Katie, here.’ Her voice cracked and she handed the picture back.

Katie hugged her knees up to her chest. Even though Robyn was looking at her photograph and not her actual body, she felt exposed. Ten years on and she still had flashbacks to that day.

‘So, what happened?’ Grace asked kindly. ‘Can you tell us?’

Katie sipped her coffee. ‘I think so. Because I’m going to need help dealing with what comes next.’

She cast her mind back to where it had all began and for the first time in her life told the whole story …

‘Am I ugly?’ Catherine Small peered at the tarnished mirror in the girls’ changing rooms and inspected her nose for blackheads. She sort of hoped she’d got a decent one to squeeze, but she couldn’t see anything.

‘Are you for real?’ Her best friend, Rose Dunbar, looked at her like she was a weirdo. She ticked off a list of attributes on her fingers. ‘Symmetrical heart-shaped face, smouldering green eyes, cute nose including freckles. Those are the world’s most popular facial features. Scientifically proven fact. And you got ‘em baby. You’re lucky I don’t hate you.’

‘You plonker.’ Catherine grinned at Rose, who she thought was much prettier. Perfect height, unlike Catherine who had to bend one knee at parties, so she didn’t tower over ninety per cent of the boys. Perfect-sized boobs, i.e. she could get away without wearing a bra if she wanted to. If Catherine tried that, it looked like she was smuggling boisterous puppies inside her top. Glossy auburn hair that she never even had to straighten, it just hung down. Catherine’s was wayward and wavy. And then there was that other special something which Catherine lacked, and Rose oozed without even realising it: sex appeal. Rose was sexy and she was … she sighed at her reflection; she was girl-next-door wholesome. ‘Why haven’t I got a boyfriend then?’

‘Ah, interesting question.’ Rose pushed her to one side and applied her plump-it-up lip gloss with one swift stroke. ‘But as you are head girl, teacher’s pet, an effortless grade-A student, with legs longer than one of Mr Channing’s lectures on using your phone in school, I think it’s karma.’

Catherine groaned. ‘I’m going to end up going to uni without even, um, you know … and that will be so embarrassing.’

‘But you’ll definitely be going to uni,’ said Rose sagely. They both picked up their bags and headed back out to the corridor. ‘Whereas I’ll probably blow my chances wasting too much time doing, um, you know … ’

Both girls were giggling as they left the changing rooms.

Later that week, Catherine stopped off in the city centre on her way home from sixth form. Rose’s eighteenth birthday was coming up, and she had decided to get her a silver necklace with her star sign on it.

Weird to think she’d be leaving Nottingham in a few months, she thought as she headed towards the jewellery shop. If she got the grades she needed, she’d be living in Newcastle from September. Moving out of the house she’d grown up in. She’d be closer to her beloved Auntie Jean in Merle Bay than to Mum and Dad. Catherine’s stomach fizzed; she was excited and nervous and worried all at once.

The University of Newcastle was posh. It didn’t bother her so much, but when they’d gone up for a visit, she could tell her mum and dad were a bit overwhelmed. Mum wouldn’t speak above a whisper and her dad kept pulling at his collar.

‘This is where you’ll all graduate,’ said the student tour guide, as he took them into a magnificent wood-panelled hall. ‘Not that you have to worry about that yet.’