‘No,’ says Lauren. ‘C’mon this way, through here. Just put your jacket on the staircase.’ She leads Ann-Marie to the back room, with its worn sofas and table, while they hear the pickup’s engine start its low growl, then fade away.

‘Oh, it’s lovely and warm in here.’ Ann-Marie smooths down a blanket on the armchair.

‘Do you babysit other people?’

Ann-Marie shakes her head, smiling. ‘I’m at boarding school. Hang on. Did that lamp just switch on?’

‘Which …?’ As she speaks, Lauren can see it is the salt lamp, glowing pink again. ‘I’m not sure …’

‘Maybe it was on when I came in.’

Lauren looks around and sits on the carpet by the dying fire. ‘Our TV isn’t very good at the moment.’ She would rather be at Ann-Marie’s.

‘It’s OK. I don’t think there is much on tonight anyway.’ She looks around the room. ‘Do you have Wi-Fi?’

‘I don’t think so. We’ve got a computer over there. It has internet.’

Ann-Marie looks at the PC on its beaten-up Formica desk, in the corner. ‘It’s OK. I can still get some 4G.’ She pauses. ‘A bit. I forget what it’s like here.’

‘I have my own mobile, but it doesn’t have the internet.’

‘Really?’

Lauren takes out an old Nokia.

‘That’s a nice-looking phone.’

‘Thanks.’

‘People text you?’

‘Just my dad, really.’

‘None of those girls, those girls at school you mentioned? Because—’

But Lauren is already shaking her head. She can tell Ann-Marie wants to ask her more, but instead Lauren motions to look at her touch-screen phone. The cover is shaped like a bucket of popcorn and the screen bubbles with coloured squares. Behind these, there is a picture of Ann-Marie with a blond-haired boy. Their heads are close together, on a beach. Lauren can see parts of the boy’s scarf. They are both smiling.

‘Who’s that?’

‘That’s my boyfriend.’

Lauren squeals. ‘You have a boyfriend!’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Rory.’

‘Rory and Ann-Marie sitting in a tree. K. I. S. S. I. N. G.’

Ann-Marie rolls her eyes and tries to find a video with a cat on a treadmill, but the internet doesn’t work.

‘Can I use your bathroom?’

‘Sure.’

Ann-Marie is gone for quite a while, even though she knows where it is; Lauren can hear creaking in a different part of the house. She wonders if Ann-Marie is nosy, like her mother Angela, but decides it isn’t important. She likes her too much.

When Ann-Marie returns, Lauren asks, ‘Can I meet your boyfriend?’

She shakes her head. ‘Shhh. He doesn’t live here, does he?’

‘Ask him to visit!’

Ann-Marie laughs. ‘Oh! Your dad forgot to say – when’s your bedtime?’ She raises her eyebrows, like a threat.