The storeroom door is barged from outside, opening twenty centimetres before crashing into Will’s shoulder. Will squeezes against the wall and lets Mr Leavers in.

‘This is totally out of hand,’ he snaps. He blinks in the fluorescent light after the smoky darkness of the stage.

‘We did try looking for you,’ Kris says.

‘Not very hard, obviously,’ Leavers says. His expression is wild. ‘Hoped you might have kept a little better order than this.’

April scowls, ducking flecks of spit. ‘Rather hoped we might have had a bit of assistance.’

‘Well, right now Ms Simon is with one of your fellow students, manning the main entrance. More use than hiding.’

‘We’re not hiding. We’re here to work out a plan,’ April shoots back.

‘Well, I’ve saved you the bother,’ Leavers says, waving a packet of industrial-size cable ties.

‘Nice!’ April shouts with a grin.

‘What are we doing with those?’ Will asks. ‘Tying up all the gatecrashers?’ He inspects the fat strips of black plastic. ‘They’ll never escape, that’s for sure.’

Leavers rocks from foot to foot like a child desperate for the toilet. ‘For the doors, you twerp.’ He hands a fistful to each of them. ‘We need to get this place locked down. And we need to do it fast.’

‘Is that a great idea?’ Will asks.

‘Or we’ll shut the whole thing down. Want to step out on to the stage and tell this baying mob to bugger off?’ He waves a cable tie. ‘If it’s open, zip it shut. Any questions?’

‘Just one,’ April says, winking at Will. ‘Where did you get them from?’

Leavers shakes his head. ‘They were by the lighting rig. Fitters left them. Is that relevant?’ He turns his back to leave.

‘Fifty-shading Simon, more like,’ April shouts when he’s halfway out of the door.

‘Felicity Simon is a dear friend,’ Leavers barks as he motors towards the stage, Will and April smirking as they follow.

Will forces himself off the stage into the mass of dancing bodies. Leavers shouts something, but even this close behind Will can’t hear a word over the music. It takes all of his strength to keep any forward momentum. There are moments when his chest – level with most of these people’s heads – is compressed and it’s almost impossible to draw breath.

The smoke is so dense he’s becoming disorientated as he wades diagonally across the room. He’s soon lost sight of Leavers, who can only be a metre or two away, his vision filled instead with beams of UV light that slice through the darkness and the glowsticks which occasionally whack him in the face.

What did she mean? Will wonders, thinking about his nain’s words. ‘It’s happening tonight.’ What’s she on about?

Is this about this morning, when he said that she could go? Is that what she means? That she’s going to go tonight?