"Mr Walker! Are you enjoying your stay in our lovely wee toon?"

To Daisy, Katrina's question sounded unmistakably sarcastic, but her dad took the inquiry at face value. They were sitting in the Braemar Quality B&B's breakfast room the following morning. Tony had bagged them the best table, the one right next to the French windows at the back of the house that looked out onto the river.

Another couple—an elderly pair who'd exchanged polite hellos with them when they came in—were sitting at another table at the back. They looked as if they were a permanent fixture, watery eyes and mournful expressions unchanging as they sipped cups of tea.

Katrina, a white apron covering her flower print dress, deposited a rack of toast on the Walkers' table. She looked at Daisy first, her eyes glittering; an invitation to join her in hoodwinking her father. The glance lasted a second or so before she turned her attention back to Tony.

"I am indeed, Katrina," her dad said, sharing out the toast between the four of them. "My grandmother came from here, you know. I've always wanted to visit the place. You're fortunate to live here, young lady."

Daisy winced.

"Oh, I am! Every day I say thank you, tae Jesus, for letting me stay here." Katrina's expression was strait-laced. Only Daisy caught the quick wink.

Having taken their tea and coffee orders, and promised that the pre-ordered cooked breakfast of one sausage, one rasher of bacon and one egg was on its way, Katrina asked Tony what he planned to do with the family for the rest of the day.

"I'd like to get my bearings," her dad said. "I thought a drive out past the beach, as the man in the newsagents said there were some very nice walks out that way."

Daisy groaned inwardly. A walk! The pure, shitty hell of it.

Katrina nodded solemnly. "That's an excellent idea, Mr Double U! Or you could wait till ten o'clock and go out with Cameron on his boat. He takes the holiday-makers out for a wee tour of the coast."

Daisy's dad looked as if he'd died and gone to heaven. Katrina winked at her again. "I thought I'd take Daisy oot, and show her the sights if that's alright wi' you?"

Daisy sucked in a deep breath. Here was the sixty-four-million-dollar question, an unsupervised excursion with someone her mum and dad didn't know. She got no reply, as Tony and Debbie looked at each other, some rapid exchange of eye meets and body language going on. A yes/no thing hovered in the air between them.

Katrina poured out coffee for Daisy's mum and dad. Picking up the empty toast rack, she vanished suddenly behind the kitchen door, re-emerging a second later with another one filled with wholemeal toast and a jar of sugar-free jam.

"My Gran bought it for you, 'specially," she said as she placed the jam in front of Daisy on the table. "Seeing as you're no' meant to eat sugar."

"Did she? How kind of her." Debbie picked up the jar and studied the label carefully, obviously checking if it really was sugar-free. Daisy glared at her. Taking the jam from her, she spread liberal amounts on a slice of toast.

Katrina performed the same sudden vanishing act once more, disappearing into the kitchen and coming out with the porridge, and cooked breakfasts the rest of the family had ordered the night before. She waited until they were all served before turning to Daisy's mum and dad.

Daisy cleared her throat. "Well? Can I? Go out with Katrina?"

"Well, that seems as if it might be nice for the two of you," Tony said. "It's just that–"

He didn't get the chance to finish as Daisy's mum leapt in. "You know Daisy has this health condition where she can't eat sugar, Katrina? Because she has diabetes? We have to be very careful with her."

She took Daisy's hand. Daisy stifled the instinct to pull it away.

"She needs to give herself injections every day, and she mustn't eat anything sugary. She won't feel very well if she does. But she also gets ill if she doesn't eat enough food or does too much exercise, and then she needs something sweet. Sometimes, though, Daisy doesn't know her blood sugar levels are too low, and that's dangerous because she might faint."

There was a yell from the kitchen. "Katrina? Get a move on, aye? There are dishes to do."

Katrina nodded solemnly. "The poor wee soul!" Daisy felt her gently kick her ankle under the chair. "Why don't you tell me what I need to do when I've finished breakfast, Mrs Double U? I promise I'll keep your wee lassie safe."

She smiled widely at Tony and Debbie, topping up both their cups with extra coffee, and left them. Daisy picked up her toast, took two mouthfuls and then began her argument.

The Case For Daisy Walker Going On An Outing Sans Parents.

*****

"What did my mum say to you?" Daisy asked, dreading the answer. They were out on the street, breakfast completed and Katrina's work for the morning finished. Daisy hadn't felt up to listening to her mum explain her health condition to Katrina. She'd taken a shower to avoid hearing it.

Katrina smirked. "I need to take a lot of care o' you!" She nudged Daisy again. Daisy had worked out that Katrina used these nudges a lot. They were her main form of communication. It was up to her to figure out what each different nudge meant.

This one, she guessed, was 'don't worry' and it was aimed at both her and her mum.

"Have you got your Dextrosol?" There was a sing-song note to Katrina's voice. Honestly, she sounded just like Daisy's mum, always checking that Daisy was armed with glucose tablets in case her blood sugar went too low.

"In my rucksack." Daisy nudged her back. They both laughed. Somehow, it wasn't as bad when Katrina asked it.

Daisy looked up at the skies. "Gosh, it's quite warm, isn't it? What sights are we going to see?"

She put the word sights in air quotes.

"The sights where you can buy decent music. Also, the sights you need a bike for. You're tall enough you can borrow Kippy's."

She nudged Daisy. "Then, you can take it back to him after he's finished work and you, me and him can pal about together." Another nudge. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

Just Seventeen and the other teenage magazines Daisy read voraciously recommended a girl should never forget her friends. Swooning over a man was all very well, but girlfriends were crucial. She crushed the ignoble swell of happiness she'd felt when Katrina had mentioned Kippy.

"No. I quite like you too. I s'pose it's okay to spend time with you until then."

Katrina's eyes narrowed. Then she burst out laughing. "Yeah, that's right. C'mon then. Let's go get those bikes."

She led Daisy down a long street and then a close. Small houses were dotted either side, the space between them so narrow occupants could pass each other stuff out of the windows if they felt like it. Next to the small house at the end of the close were two bikes leaning against the wall, both BMXs. Katrina pulled them straight and handed the bigger bike to Daisy.

"That's Kippy's," she said. "You're taller than me. It'll fit."

"Shouldn't we tell someone?" Daisy pointed to the front door, painted bright blue and decorated outside with plant pots containing brightly-coloured shrubs and flowers.

Katrina shrugged. "Nae need. C'mon. Let's get out of here."

Kippy's bike seat had needed lowering, but other than that it was a good fit. Daisy liked being on it, her hands on the handlebars he'd held and her bottom... She didn't allow her thoughts to veer too far in that direction.

Cycling wasn't something you did in London, not unless you were wearing a helmet and part of a supervised group. It was far too dangerous. Here, where the cars and lorries were infrequent, it was much easier.

Katrina, she noticed, didn't bother with the Highway Code. She led the way, zig-zagging across the lanes, overtaking and undertaking other cyclists and the cars drawing up to junctions, and never bothering to stick her hand out to signal. Daisy almost left her behind when she turned right at one point.

"Exactly where are we going?" she called out. They'd left the town behind, cycling out past the sign that had welcomed Daisy and her family to Kirkinwall the day before and fields of brown and white cows grazing peacefully.

"The next big town! There's a Woollies there." Katrina sang out. "Move it, slowcoach."

It took all Daisy's efforts to keep up with Katrina, who kept stopping, looking back at her and sighing loudly. No wonder her legs were so thin if she cycled these roads regularly. The thought motivated Daisy, who doubled her efforts and tried to control her breathing.

A few years ago, Daisy had been good at cross-country. She'd even represented St Mary's School for Girls several times. As soon as diabetes came along, her mum put a stop to it, too terrified about what might happen.

Daisy felt that lack of running and cursed her mother.

"Is it far away?" she asked, and the head in front turned from side to side.

Minutes later, and they were on the main road. It was nothing like London traffic busy, but there were a lot of lorries, and they roared alarmingly close. One overtook Daisy, sparing her only inches or so. The bike wobbled, the force of the gravitational pull so strong she toppled over, falling into the grassy verge at the side of the road.

There was enough grass and moss to break her fall, but she felt herself flailing, her arms and legs flapping furiously as she fell and then landed face down.

"Katrina!" The first was a shout, the second a scream, a desperate attempt to get the words heard above the wind and the roar of lorries.

The bike that looked as if it was so far into the distance it might never stop, halted, and Katrina placed two feet either side of the frame, turning her head backwards. Seconds later having cycled the wrong way down the road, she was beside Daisy, hauling her to her feet.

"Are you okay?" she asked, pulling the bike up and dusting off the bits of grass that clung to it.

"Ye-es," Daisy said, taking the bike back. "Can you go a bit slower, though?"

"I'll go behind you," Katrina said, "so you can set the pace. Off you go."

Five minutes later, Katrina's bike just about clattering right into the back of hers as she stopped, Daisy spotted the sign for the town, the one Katrina had promised was a vast improvement on Kirkinwall. Daisy was beetroot red, her breath coming in ragged bursts. She felt like flinging her arms around the sign.

As they cycled past the sign, she noted an expanse of water she guessed was a lake and then a long high street studded with shops. The afore-promised Woollies was there, and Katrina called out to her to stop when they got to the doors.

She shook her head when Daisy asked if they should lock their bikes, leaving them propped up against the railings next to the bank beside Woollies instead.

As she dismounted the bike, Daisy's legs shook. She felt decidedly unsteady on her feet.

The Woolworth's was tiny compared to the ones in London. Katrina headed straight to the music section and began flicking through CDs, muttering to herself. "Nah, nah, rubbish, shit..."

Daisy's legs weren't yet co-operating with her brain. They didn't seem to want to obey the 'stand up' command, trying to fold under her instead. She grasped the shelf, the movement causing Katrina to look up.

"What's wi' you?"

When Daisy didn't respond at once, Katrina stopped what she was doing and grabbed her arm. "Oh! This is what your mum told me about!"

She sounded excited, but also far away. Daisy felt sweat gathering on her top lip and trickling down her back and the sides of her torso. Gross.

"Kat—Kit-Kat! Kitty..." What was her bloody name, what was the name she said Daisy should call her? She tried to remember. The name began with a 'K', she was sure, but the rest of it flickered out of reach.

Katrina took hold of Daisy's arm and pushed her gently down to the floor. "Dextrosol, Daisy?"

Daisy shook her head. "Not, not...no hypo," she said, her chin slumping onto her chest. Katrina crouched beside her and began to rifle through her jeans pockets and the backpack.

Finding nothing, she stood up. "Stay here. I'll be right back!"

Their actions had attracted the attention of two older ladies nearby. "Do you think she's drunk?" one asked the other, pointing at Daisy.

"Not...no..." Daisy muttered. It must have come out louder and angrier than she thought, as woman number one took her friend's arm, and they both hurried away, shooting Daisy a dirty look over their shoulders.

Katrina was back, holding handfuls of pick and mix. "I didn't know what to get to you, so I just went for the ones covered in sugar," she said, kneeling next to Daisy. She'd picked cola bottles, jelly babies, shoestrings, bonbons and fizzy chips.

"Not...no..."

"Shut up!" Katrina said, pushing a cola bottle into Daisy's mouth. "You're hypo. Eat. Your mum said sometimes you don't know when you're low."

By the time she'd forced the third cola bottle into Daisy, the shop's manager had appeared. He'd brought a security guard with him too.

"Right, you two!" he barked. "You'll be paying for those sweets, however many of them you've eaten. We don't tolerate shoplifters here, and we'll be calling the police to deal with the two of you. Get up!"