God Save the Queen.

Jess stood at the edge of the group of teenage girls. Only a close observer might have noticed that all the conversations, the jokes,the friendly jostling and hugging was going on around her. She was there ...but not really part of it. She had become expert at this blending in, and her fixed smile, her careful mirroring of the gestures the other girls used, the carefree hair flick, the head tilt, was designed to fool all but the most attentive watchers.

Because Jess knew it was a very bad idea indeed to be noticed, or singled out, or not to be part of the gang. She knew that to be different was to be ridiculed, sometimes casually, in passing. But also sometimes aggressively, with rising hostility, as if she was a mouse surrounded by a flock of birds of prey. She knew the cruelty from a mean comment, and how that sting remained burning on her skin, even when she was at home tucked up in her own bed.

" Bye then ! Maybe see you later " she called even though almost nobody turned to see her peel off the group as they passed the end of her road. One or two faces turned in mild astonishment, only then aware that Jess had been walking with them. Then they turned back to their friends and the burning topic of who was the best looking - the French exchange student or the boy that just moved and started in 3B.

Jess slowed her steps and took a long shaky breath in and out again. Another day over thank goodness , and another day closer to the holidays. She wasn't part of the WhatsApp group, and she knew conversations , plans to meet up were excluding her but that was ok, she seemed to have managed to stay under the radar and that was all she wanted. For today, anyway.

" Hello sweetie, how's your day been,? " her mum was in the kitchen and smiled warmly as Jess came in.

" Yeah, good thanks, " Jess replied, sticking her finger experimentally in the pot of food sitting on the stove waiting to be warmed for dinner .

" Hey! Cheeky. That's not very sanitary, don't they teach food hygiene any more at school? " her mum teased, shaking her head in pretended exasperation.

" Oh listen! I got you something. I think you'll like it. It's on your bed"

Jess bounded upstairs, a bubble of hope and excitement fizzing through her. When she saw the carrier bag on her bed, her smile faltered a little.

" So! I heard you say all the girls at school had these cool scarves for the winter. I know it's not exactly the same kind- I couldn't see the one I think I saw Claudia wearing last week , remember? We saw her in town ? " Mum continued enthusiastically " Anyway, it's so pretty and I thought you'd suit this colour better anyway! You've got such lovely dark curls. This'll look great, I know it will "

Jess slowly removed the scarf from the bag. Her fingers trembled a little and her throat suddenly ached, as she pulled out a bright orange mohair scarf from the carrier bag.

" What do you think? Put it on now, I'm dying to see it!" cajoled her mum, still smiling so confidently that Jess felt tears prickle her eyes. A mixture of overwhelming love for her mum, and a dull dread at how she was going to navigate this, froze her face into a false smile.

" Oh wow, well it's lovely! Thanks Mum!" she said, hugging her mum to her. It wasn't her fault. Probably mum had never been young or if she had, she clearly didn't understand how really, really important it was to look just the same as the other girls. Just exactly the same; the hair cut, the make up, the flick of eyeliner just so, the correct shade of nail polish. Nobody could possibly understand how essential Jess's twenty minutes appointment was with the straighteners to eradicate her stupid curls, which were so wrong, just all wrong, and of course you couldn't be fat. Or too thin. That was just as bad. Or have the wrong colour of scarf. Mum couldn't possibly understand.

All the girls had the blue and green ones, subtle and tasteful against their perfect honey coloured hair , nobody had a fluffy orange one. ....

Jess's mum sat down beside her as she stroked the scarf absent mindedly.

" It's ok isn't it? " She asked and a tiny flicker of doubt crossed her face now . " I know it's not quite the same but it was so pretty..."

Jess buried her face in her mum's shoulder to prevent her seeing the burning colour which suddenly suffused her face. " Of course! I love it! I'll wear it tomorrow, Claudia will be well jealous that I've got such a nice one. Hers is going a bit bobbly," she lied.

All evening Jess longed to go to bed. There was a heavy weight of dread and anxiety at the pit of her stomach. She could, she reasoned, stuff the scarf in her bag as soon as she got to the top of the road, but she knew Mum would be watching her for that twenty yards. And suppose it fell out? Suppose everyone saw her bright, fluffy, Mohair ,orange scarf??

She swallowed hard . Mum was looking at her with concern in her eyes, and Jess tried to look bright and breezy but her head ached and her stomach rolled uneasily.

" I think I'll go to bed Mum, I want to watch that YouTube video that one of the girls sent me" she said finally.

All night, she tossed and turned, and stared into the dark, and wished fervently she was someone else, with a different face, and blonde straight hair, and everyone would think she was so funny and cool and smart. Eventually she drifted into a fitful doze and dreamt of orange sorbet and slices of sickly cake with orange icing....

" Have a great day sweetie! See you tonight - you'll be toasty warm in your new scarf!" mum said chattily the next morning. " I swear girls wear less clothes now than they did in gran's day when the mini skirt was in! ". She paused and a slight shadow crossed her face. She pushed some toast across the table to Jess.

" She wasn't exactly thrilled when I was a punk in the eighties. She thought I looked ridiculous. " She laughed a little.

" Well to be fair I probably did, but I loved the Sex Pistols and I wanted to get all the clothes and safety pins and everything....,,"

She tailed off , remembering something from those days, and Jess saw her face soften and change a little as she did so. " That's how I met your dad. He thought I was so cool in my Doc Martens and tartan trews..." Suddenly she looked at the clock and began to bustle Jess into the hall to get her jacket telling her to hurry up or she'd be late, and to ignore her old mum wittering on about stuff.

Jess thoughtfully looked back as she left the house. A punk, eh? Who knew mum had ever worn anything except blue jeans and a variety of saggy sweatshirts?

She pulled the orange scarf closer to her neck and walked , a slight jauntiness in her step, towards the school. Claudia and three girls were coming from the other street. Jess caught Claudia staring in surprise at her ,and she lifted her chin, smiling slightly and meeting her gaze steadily. I am an anarchist she thought to herself, and her smile broadened. I am an anarchist..