‘She asked me for more weed.’ Joe spat out a gob of saliva. ‘I’d saved half a joint, so we shared it in her tent. We were snogging, then we heard someone coming. All of a sudden she started screaming.’ He shook his head.

Carina’s head was still buried in Marie’s shoulder. She didn’t say a word. Simon looked at her, then at Joe, then Tanya. The mix tape changed to Roxette; the cheerful beat and bright voices made the whole situation seem utterly absurd.

‘The thing is,’ Simon said slowly, ‘we’re all pretty drunk and tired . . .’

‘Don’t tell me you think she’s lying!’ Marie snapped.

Simon held up his hands.

‘I just mean it’s easy to get the wrong end of the stick when you’re stoned.’ He glanced at Tanya. ‘Joe and Tanya are leaving now, but first he’s going to apologise, OK?’

Tanya nodded. ‘If Joe’s said or done anything inappropriate, he apologises – don’t you?’

Joe avoided her gaze, straightened up and brushed the dirt off his jeans.

‘Don’t you?’ Tanya said, more sharply this time.

Joe raised his head, his lips compressed into a thin line. He forced his features into a grimace that was meant to express regret. ‘Sorry.’ He grabbed his leather jacket. ‘Sorry you’re a bunch of immature kids.’

He shrugged his jacket and set off down the path to the turning area.

Tanya lingered for a moment. ‘I really do apologise,’ she said to Marie and Carina, but they refused to look at her. She took a couple of steps towards the path, then stopped and glanced over her shoulder at Simon. ‘Sorry,’ she said. He stood there watching her go, then suddenly he dived into his tent and dug a cassette tape out of a pocket in his guitar case. He caught up with Tanya and gave it to her.

‘Here – you said you liked my song.’

She looked at the tape. ‘Property of Simon Vidje,’ she read out loud. ‘Thanks.’ She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the lips. ‘You’re going to be a star, Simon.’ Then she ran to join Joe; the motorbike roared into life. Tanya swung her leg over the saddle; she barely had time to sit down properly before Joe shot away along the forest track. The last sight of them was Joe’s arm raised above his head, middle finger extended to make his opinion clear.

Simon went back to the campsite. Roxette weren’t sounding too good – a sure sign that the boombox’s batteries were running out. Raindrops pattered against the tents – just a few at first, then more and more. Cold rain, different from the showers that had fallen during the summer; it soon extinguished what remained of the fire. The others were waiting for him. The rain was heavy now, transforming the world into sharp lines.