‘Hi, Claire. Look, I’m sorry to bother you, but we were on our way to crack some books at the coffee shop. You like coffee? And books? I figure you would, since you enrolled here, and it’s kind of a prerequisite.’

‘That’s his idea of logic flow,’ one of the girls said – a cute African-American girl, wearing a knitted cap with earflaps and dangling yarn balls. She rolled her eyes. ‘No wonder he needs to crack books, because he sucks at critical path. I’m Kass, by the way.’

‘Hi, Kass. Um, thanks, Nick, that’s really nice of you, but I – I’m waiting for my housemate. We’ve got dinner on tonight. Maybe some other time?’

‘There’s a party later, is what Nick the Quick is failing to mention,’ one of the other boys said. He was a weedy kid about Shane’s age, very self-assured and hipster-chic with his tight, too-small buttoned sweater, jeans with the hems turned up, and pork-pie hat he’d probably stolen from the character on Breaking Bad. ‘So you should blow off dinner and come with.’ He had his arm around a plump blonde girl who had pink streaks in her hair and matching cat-eye glasses, and a retro cotton-candy-pink dress. ‘Right, Sarah?’

‘Right!’ she agreed, and grinned. ‘We might get tattoos, too. I was thinking about a dragon.’

‘Tattoos,’ Claire said, and pretended to think it over. ‘Well … that sounds fun, but honest, I have to stay home. You guys have a good time. And Nick—’ Never going to happen, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t, in front of his friends. Which was probably why he’d brought them, to be honest. ‘I’ll see you later, okay?’

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘One more time: study, books, party, tattoos. Sold?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘But thanks. Have a good time.’

‘Oh, we will,’ the other boy said, and kissed Sarah, who giggled. ‘Your loss, Tex – what’s her name again?’

‘Claire,’ Nick said, still watching her. ‘Her name is Claire.’

‘Right. Well, mine’s Robert, but everybody calls me Drag. Don’t ask.’

‘I won’t,’ she said, and stepped back over the threshold. ‘Good night. Be safe, you guys.’

‘You too!’ It was a chorus, and the group wandered off with their backpacks and enthusiasm, and for a moment, she badly wanted to change her mind and join them. Just be part of something again, and not stuck here in the dark.

But she closed and locked the door, and went back upstairs instead.

No Liz. Claire did her e-mail, called her parents, and finally changed into her pyjamas. She was worried enough by that time to call Liz’s cell, and got an answer, finally.