Georgia arrived at the Red Parrot with a Waitrose bag-for-life stuffed with drone parts. It was the second meeting of a yet-to-be-named splinter group. Some preferred Socialists Against Austerity, but New Socialist Action Group had a couple of supporters and Radical Anti-government Socialists was in the mix because it made a good acronym.

‘Bus was late,’ Georgia said, a touch breathless as she rounded the top of Red Parrot’s tight staircase and gave everyone a wave.

The cafe was closed for the day. Zac got off his seat and gave Georgia a hug.

Georgia was less keen on Elodie, an athletic paramedic who was Zac’s new housemate. She’d separated from her husband and wasn’t up for anything serious, but Georgia knew they had something going on.

Kamila and three other members sat in a loose oval of chairs. Gerard was a lone wolf by the cafe counter, with a giant green smoothie and a graph pad, on which he scribbled notes and diagrams, as if nobody else was there.

‘I got most of the stuff you asked for,’ Georgia said as she put the bag down next to Gerard’s chair.

Gerard slapped his notepad, face down so Georgia couldn’t see. He was left-handed and his palm blue with ink.

‘What didn’t you get?’ he asked intensely.

It sounded rude, but Georgia had known Gerard long enough to expect it. His intelligence was eccentric but easily dealt with once you knew what made him tick.

‘No brushless motors,’ Georgia explained. ‘They’re sixty quid a pop and I think Dad’s staff pocketed the spares before they got laid off.’

‘I need motors,’ Gerard stated.

‘I think everyone’s here now,’ Kamila told the room loudly. ‘Shall we start?’

A couple of uni students rounded the top of the stairs, bringing the number in the room to nine.

The first item on Kamila’s agenda was whether the yet-to-be-named group should have membership fees, or voluntary contributions only. Three people wanted the whole thing to be unstructured and anarchist. Kamila was a born organiser, who wanted memberships, committees, regular meetings and eventually a written constitution and elected leader.

Georgia found the discussion mind-numbing and tuned out when they moved on to debating the group name. While Gerard yawned and went back to his scribbles, Georgia ached with jealousy as Zac edged closer to Elodie and slid his hand on top of hers.

‘Georgia, NSAG or RAGS?’ Kamila asked.

Everyone had been talking at once. Now it was quiet and all eyes were on Georgia.

‘Eh?’

‘We’re tied at four votes each,’ Elodie said. ‘Yours is the casting vote.’

‘RAGS,’ Georgia decided. ‘It’s catchier. And saying we’re the New SAG is catty and unoriginal.’

Zac smiled approvingly, but the student girl sat opposite tutted and shook her head.

‘What’s our voting age here?’ she asked. ‘She’s only fourteen.’

‘Fifteen,’ Kamila corrected. ‘And a member like everyone else.’