I am worried, though, so when she turns to me with an eager smile, I’m a little startled. ‘What?’

‘Come on then?’

‘Come on what?’

‘The Roedean girl? What’s her name?’

‘Oh.’ I try not to smile, but fail miserably. ‘Poppy. Poppy Morgan.’

‘Of course she’s called Poppy.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Does she have a brother called Hugo?’ Adara chuckles sourly as we cross the road and head towards Churchill Square. When I don’t take the bait, she changes tack. ‘How old is she?’

‘Our age.’

‘What did you guys talk about?’

I daren’t tell her about the jumping off the bridge thing, so I say, ‘All sorts.’

‘And you know that she’s definitely . . .’ She raises her eyebrows up and down again.

‘Of course not!’ I scoff. ‘Do I ever?’

‘Well, you need to find out sooner rather than later this time.’

‘How, though?’ I shrug. ‘I can’t just ask her, can I? It’s rude.’

‘And stringing you along so you torture yourself for weeks, wondering if she likes you, for her to tell you that she’s just super flirty with her friends and she’s sorry if she gave you the wrong idea, isn’t rude?’

Wow. Way to sum up every relationship I’ve ever been in, Adara.

‘Thanks for that,’ I mutter, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket.

She stops walking so suddenly, a woman pushing a buggy almost goes into the back of us. ‘I’m not trying to upset you, Ash.’ Her whole face softens. ‘I just want you to be careful, yeah?’

I stop as well, avoiding eye contact as I let out a sullen sigh. ‘I will be careful, Ad.’

‘Just don’t rush it, OK? I don’t want you getting hurt again.’

‘I won’t.’

She doesn’t seem convinced, but lets it go and starts walking again. ‘So how did you guys leave it?’

‘She gave me her number.’

She turns to look at me, her light brown eyes suddenly dark. ‘You haven’t WhatsApped her yet, have you?’

‘Of course not,’ I tell her as we head into H&M.

‘Did you find her Insta?’

‘Of course.’ What am I? An amateur? ‘It’s locked.’

‘Good. You have to wait three days.’

I turn to blink at her. ‘Three days?’

She nods. ‘I watched this thing on Netflix about the psychology of dating. If you WhatsApp her straight away, you’ll seem desperate, but if you leave it longer than three days she’ll think you’re not interested.’

‘I hate this bit,’ I mutter as I stop to reach for a yellow tartan scarf so I don’t have to look at her.