Our first lecture feels like déjà vu.

‘There are as many different ways to think about the body as there are medical schools or lecturers. But we are going to teach you to look at the body as a set of eleven main systems, functioning – or not – simultaneously.’

I have seen and heard all of this before, helping Tim with his assignments and his revision. Twice.

I sit at the back and take sparse notes. After a few minutes, I realize someone is staring at me. I look up to see the other girl from outside the union bar. Striking, South-East Asian, with a glossy fringe that makes me think of Edna from The Incredibles. She’s covered several A4 pages already, and a pile of shiny new books sits at her elbow.

I focus pointedly at the lecturer as he drones on – ‘. . . and the endocrine system influences the body’s functions through hormones, while the exocrine system . . .’ – and she takes the hint.

Later, I’m making a coffee in the communal kitchen in halls when she walks into the room.

‘You must have a photographic memory. You hardly wrote anything down during that lecture.’

She’s only being nice, but if I were to tell her why I know most of it already, that would raise way too many other questions.

‘I do have a good memory, yeah.’

‘I’m Hanna,’ she says, holding out her hand. Her nails are French manicured. Who has time for that?

‘Kerry.’ The kettle’s boiled so I let go of her hand and pour the water into my mug, a gift from Ant with the slogan KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON, I’M A MED STUDENT. He’s a good mate now: we bonded when we were helping Joel get clean, and I often call into the cafe when I’m near the seafront. There’s never an agenda with Ant, and as I no longer have Joel or Tim in my life, I sometimes welcome a male point-of-view to go with my cappuccino.

The one thing we never discuss is the old days.

When I turn back, she’s still looking at me. The lines that criss-cross her forehead remind me of Marilyn’s daughter Ava when she’s puzzled by something. ‘Have I done something to upset you?’

‘No.’ Maybe I sound blunt, but I am still smarting from the encounter outside the union.

‘So you’re just rude then? Useful to know, before I waste any more time being friendly.’

Not quite the dormouse I thought she was. I follow her out into the corridor. Funny how someone playing hard to get makes me keener: another Kerry habit to break. ‘Sorry. Hanna. You’re right. I’m not used to this.’