‘Or I could’ve just come with you,’ Beth is saying as I browse through the paperback thrillers for some literary nicotine. ‘I’m sure Jack wouldn’t’ve minded me tagging along.’

‘Beth, this is a personal trip.’

‘Whatever.’

‘You’re being mean.’

‘Hmm. You know what’s mean, babes? Sending your mum and dad all the way home a day after they arrived—’

‘Don’t guilt trip me, they were glad to go. They hate London.’

‘Everyone’s mum and dad hate London.’

‘Look, I didn’t book two plane tickets,’ I reassure her.

‘Oh, phew. That’s a relief. Thank fuck you realised ghosts don’t need a seat and a salty ready meal—’

‘I don’t believe in ghosts.’

‘Woop! Double relief. I’m over the moon you’re only going on holiday with a figment of your imagination. Fine. I won’t be offended that you’d rather do that than hang out with me, you know, someone who has skin and bones and a pulse.’

‘And a big fucking mouth.’

I don’t tell Beth how, amongst my loose summer clothes, flip-flops, bikini and straw hat, I packed a few of Jack’s things, too. His holiday t-shirt patterned with surf boards, his khaki man-bag that predictably hasn’t been used since we went to Thailand together. Inside the bag, I found five hundred baht and the hotel keycard from the resort where we’d stayed on Koh Phangan. Something practical and something sacred, patterned with his fingerprints.

‘I’ve gotta go,’ I tell Beth. ‘I’ve found a good book. Need to pay for it.’

‘If you were with me, you wouldn’t need a book. I could entertain you with stories.’

‘Go to the Cotswolds and have a ball.’

‘On me own?’

‘Take Fergus with you.’

She growls. ‘Bye, babes.’

I buy the book and nip into Boots to buy a lip balm. I don’t need other toiletries thanks to the lovely Body Shop set I got as a present from a pupil at school. A nice touch, really, especially since I’ve not exactly been Teacher of the Year. Si walked out yesterday showered with much more end-of-term love, smelly sets and chocolates. Fair’s fair. That’s all you can ask for, eh? I mean, during rehearsals last week, Si worked hard to ensure the harmonies were tight and I sat on my phone and booked a Bangkok hotel on Expedia. Layla Birch (who decided to show up this time) caught me reading reviews. I looked back at her self-righteous little heart-shaped face and pulled tongues. It’s a wonder I got a single end-of-term gift at all.