‘I wonder,’ Will says to Alfie, as they enter the double-height hallway with its gleaming granite floor, ‘do you reckon everyone’s too busy trying to look like they’re having a good time to actually have a good time?’ It’s the sort of philosophical matter that they have recently been debating well into the night. ‘I mean, if you were really having a ball, would you think to take any pictures?’

‘One for discussion later,’ Alfie says, glancing around for a familiar face. ‘As long as no one starts posting pictures of this transaction on the Halloween Beach Party group, we’ll be fine and dandy.’ He points into the kitchen, where the central island is piled with beer in ice buckets and every spirit imaginable. ‘Be a darling and fix us both a drink, would you?’

Alfie heads out of the back while Will sheepishly grabs a couple of cold Stellas, certain that he’ll be rumbled any second as an uninvited guest, even though, as he’s relieved to note, he and Alfie aren’t the only people not in fancy dress. The kitchen is vast, running the whole width of the house, its back wall glazed and partially open. Outside, guests huddle round gas heaters in the decked garden, which steps straight on to the beach. On the left side there’s a swimming pool, steam hovering low over the dark blue surface.

Will knocks back most of his beer without even thinking about it; without Alfie at his side, it’s not taken long for him to start feeling out of place here. He leans against a fridge that resembles a bank vault, watching a noisy game of beer pong being played on the breakfast bar. Four of the participants are Will’s age, while the other player is much older – forties at least. He’s unnaturally tanned, a fact accentuated by his sleek skinhead and gleaming white teeth. The loudest of the bunch, he breaks off to mix a cocktail of random spirits in a pint glass, rewarding one of the young guys for downing it by very publicly presenting him with a fifty-pound note.

Will overhears two younger boys chatting nearby as they get beers. ‘Lauren’s dad is a fucking legend,’ one says.

‘Must be minted,’ the other says. ‘Just look at the place.’

‘Anyone else want to earn a few quid?’ the man bellows, waving a bottle of tequila.

‘Just imagine how much pussy he gets,’ one of the boys says to his friend admiringly.

The man begins a lap of his kitchen, topping up people’s drinks with neat spirits. He flashes an expensive grin at Will. ‘All on your lonesome?’ he asks.

‘I’m cool,’ Will says. ‘Just waiting for –’

‘Join us for a game? Can’t bear to see a man left out.’

‘I’m all right. Thanks, though.’