‘Haven’t seen that one for years,’ he says.

‘Who?’

‘Little black one. Oni.’

Jack leans back, shoulders looser. He is sated.

Callum leans in. He has been scrolling through his phone. ‘Hey.’

‘What?’

‘Check this.’

He holds his phone out. He needs to show this. He should have thought of this before. He’s no faggot.

‘Look.’

On his phone is a picture. It shows the top of a frizzy head. The perspective is shortened. She’s shot from above. You can see the waistband of some jeans, and a sliver of a penis as she holds it.

Jack takes a moment, then he grins. ‘She fucking loved that. She used to suck me off under the bridge.’

Callum is momentarily put off, but he scrolls.

‘Check this.’

The photo is obscure. Jack frowns. Then his eyebrows lift, delighted. He punches Callum gently on the arm. ‘Fucking sweet.’

‘She was going out with my buddy. She was up for anything. She stayed at his house for a couple of days, and we got fucked up. We all had a go. He’d just ask her to do anything and she’d do it.’

He leans back, satisfied he’s made his point. ‘She was tight.’ he says.

Rose stands. She doesn’t want to stand, but she doesn’t know where to sit. No one talks to her, because no one knows her. But they watch her.

She wants to go to Alisha. But she can see Dillon beside her, and Oni beside him.

She walks to the corner. She leans against the fence. She sees a figure on the ground. She steps towards it. She knows who it is as she approaches, and the way he is curled there makes her think of another figure, curled in a doorway. She kneels down.

‘Aaron?’

He shifts. He’s asleep.

She doesn’t wake him. But she sits down beside him. She leans over and whispers in his ear.

More people fall asleep, or stagger home. The fire dies down. Rose stays by Aaron. Dillon and Oni take Alisha home.

Jack’s mind is slurred. He watches Dillon and Oni holding Alisha, giggling. Their hands interlock under her arms. They touch each other with ease. And Rose. She rests one hand on Aaron.

He feels the dirt inside him. It’s in his blood. It’s in his touch.

‘You OK?’

Rose looks up. A man she doesn’t know. Her arms are wrapped tight round her long, bare legs. Aaron is curled up next to her.

The man has a funny scratty beard.

‘Is that your boyfriend?’ he asks.

‘My brother.’

‘Do you need a hand getting him home?’

She hesitates. But it’s night now, fully night, and Aaron shows no signs of waking.

‘OK.’

They shake him. They try to be gentle. He stirs. His head reels up then droops. The man pulls him into a sitting position.

‘Aaron?’ says Rose.

A groan.

‘Come on, buddy.’ The man pulls him to his feet, drapes an arm round his own shoulders, holding on to the boy’s hand.