‘Look, Ariel,’ she said. ‘OK, I wasn’t expecting you to be looking after kids, and I know you said we can go to London on Saturday, but none of that stops me worrying about you. I’ve been wanting to chat outside school for ages. You always run away. We never hang out any more. And you won’t tell me where you go. You just manage not to answer every single day. Don’t hate me, but I texted Sasha. Because I’m worried about what you’re doing.’

Izzy was looking at me with her big brown eyes, nervous but resolute. Her hair was blowing across her face in the wind.

I froze.

‘What?’

‘Don’t hate me.’

‘What?’ All my words had gone. This was a total ambush.

She turned away. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I knew you’d be like this, but I have to do it. It’s only because I know you’re vulnerable. And I’m sure you’re meeting someone. You’re acting weirdly. And in the past, no matter what was going on, you’ve always talked to me about it. What’s so bad that you can’t tell me? It must be something really serious.’

I put a hand on her arm. ‘Izzy, stop! You texted Sasha? When? What did you say?’

‘What do you think, Ariel?’ She was almost shouting. Izzy never raised her voice. ‘Actually we haven’t spoken yet but we’re arranging to. I’m going to say that you run off into town every single day after school, and that I know that you pretend to her that you’re working in the library, but you’re not. I’m going to tell her that I’m absolutely sure you’re meeting someone. Some guy. And keeping it secret. I know you better than you think, and something’s up. What’s happening? What have you got yourself into?’

‘Please don’t tell Sasha,’ I said. ‘Have you already said that?’

Izzy pulled away. ‘No. Like I said, I texted. I asked if we could talk because I was worried about you. She said she’s working until six and she’ll call me then. I’m actually going to be busy, but I’ll take some time out to talk to her and you can’t stop me. I’m doing this for you, Ariel, even if you can’t see it.’

I screwed my eyes up and pictured this from Izzy’s point of view. I knew she was looking out for me. It wasn’t her fault. This had spiralled because I hadn’t been able to tell her I was hanging out with a ghost. That he’d been arsing around in the history room and making me laugh, right in front of her. That he had done some gardening for my mum and taken eleven photos. It was so mad.