As Charlie pushed the lever to fill her glass, Brad leaned out of a communal kitchen area, holding a slice of toast.

‘How much toast do you eat?’ Charlie said, smiling, but conscious that she looked a mess. Barefoot, baggy nylon shorts and one of Juno’s old Gap tees, with no bra underneath.

‘Been up playing pool on the mezzanine,’ Brad explained. Charlie realised he was still in the clothes he’d worn when he’d dropped her off. ‘Want some jelly toast?’

‘Why not,’ Charlie said.

She was too stressed to be hungry, but preferred chatting to Brad to going back to her room.

‘They put fresh bread in here every day,’ Brad complained, opening an overhead cupboard mounded with half-eaten loaves. ‘But nobody ever cleans out the old stuff. This is green!’

Brad dropped the mouldy bread into a trash can.

‘And the cleaners …’ he moaned, tailing off as he placed two fresh slices into the toaster and pushed the lever down. ‘So how was the Maker’s Yard? Got back OK?’

Charlie couldn’t face the humiliating details.

‘It wasn’t what I expected,’ she said understatedly, before changing the subject. ‘Do you know Ken Kleinberg?’

‘The support officer?’

Charlie smirked. ‘How many Ken Kleinbergs do you know?’

‘All right, Miss Smartass,’ Brad said, making Charlie flinch with a flicking gesture. ‘He used to be my support officer, but he’s been off sick a lot. I wouldn’t say Ken’s a bad guy, but he’s moody. One day snapping and snarling, another he’s so wrapped in his own problems you could probably rape a nun and get away with it.’

‘A nun!’ Charlie said, shaking her head and laughing. ‘It’s dark in that head of yours, Brad.’

But she was laughing, and she’d stepped slightly closer.

‘You look cute with your hair all mussed,’ Brad said, then bit his toast.

The compliment seemed ridiculous, but Charlie didn’t care. Brad swung his toast in front of her mouth.

‘Crunchy peanut, chocolate spread and lime jelly,’ he said.

Charlie took a bemused sniff. ‘Kinda gross …’

But Brad’s smile was infectious and after a pause for thought, Charlie went on tiptoes and took a cautious bite.

‘Tastes better than it looks, doesn’t it?’ Brad said, before putting a sticky hand on the back of Charlie’s neck and gently kissing her lips. She loved his confidence, and the way he tasted like chocolate instead of beer and weed. Charlie considered Brad’s girlfriend. But in this moment there were only two places to go: forward with a guy who turned her on, or back behind her bolted door, sleepless and tormented.

Brad grabbed her butt and lifted her easily on to the kitchen worktop. The back of her head hit a cabinet, but that didn’t stop him pushing up her shirt. Charlie rubbed against Brad’s chest, but she really wanted to see it.

‘Take your shirt off.’