Star Quality. Jean Ure

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      I said, “I don’t mind. Not like it’s a secret. But now she’s going to go round telling everyone you only got in cos of knowing the right people.”

      “Oh.” She bit her lip. “Maybe I did.”

      “That’s absolute rubbish,” I said, crossly. “Mum would never have given you a scholarship if she didn’t think you deserved it. As a matter of fact –” I wasn’t sure that Caitlyn knew this – “it’s the only scholarship Mum’s ever given. Ever! Which just shows that she agreed with Sean. He was the one that said you had a special talent.”

      Predictably Caitlyn’s face had turned bright pink, either because I’d mentioned Sean or because I’d told her what he’d said. Most likely a mixture of both.

      I sternly informed her, not for the first time, that she really had to have a bit more faith in herself. “Otherwise,” I said, “people like Tiffany will just walk all over you, like she tried to do today. She can try it with me as much as she likes. Doesn’t bother me! You’re too modest. It simply doesn’t get you anywhere, not in this business. You have to be really tough in this business.” (I was quoting Mum, here.) “If you keep putting yourself down all the time, people start thinking you can’t be much good. It helps, of course, if you’re naturally bumptious, which apparently I am, according to Sean.”