Harriet is still flanked by the girls. Some of them are staring at Rose, just like Harriet is. But not all of them. Nisha is on the edge of the group. She’s fiddling with her blazer and looking at her feet. As usual all the girls have their hair in one long braid, but today Rose’s hair is in pigtails. “What’s the matter with you?” says Harriet. “Why didn’t you answer any of my messages in the holidays? And what’s with the hair?” She reaches forward to tug at Rose’s pigtails. Then she laughs.

Rose goes to step back, but then I see something flicker across her face and she stays where she is. “I didn’t answer any of your messages because I didn’t want to,” she says.

Harriet’s eyes narrow. “What?”

Rose shrugs. “I looked through the stuff you’ve said about me on Instagram, and I remembered what happened with the cupcakes, and the way you always call me ‘Fish,’ even though you know I hate it, and I realized that you’re a horrible person. Why would I want to hang out with a horrible person?”

Harriet gasps and puts her hands to her mouth. “That’s so mean!” she says, and her bottom lip actually wobbles. The girls who are standing closest to her put their arms around her and stare at Rose accusingly.

“No, you are mean,” says Rose. She’s trying to keep her voice calm, but it’s getting louder. She pulls out her phone. “I’ve kept every single thing you ever said about me and I will show someone if I have to!”

The lip wobbling vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

Harriet steps closer. “Do you know what, Rose? No one ever wanted to hang out with you. I had to make them.”

“Whatever,” says Rose, then she turns away from Harriet and starts to walk across the playground. Nisha, I notice, walks away too, and a couple of the other girls run after her.

I catch up with Rose.

But Harriet hasn’t finished. “Who are you going to sit with in lessons, Rose?” she shouts. “What will you do at lunchtime, because you’re not going to be with us!” Rose keeps walking. “And you’re not coming to my sleepover, or to town with us. And I’m deleting you from our group chat. NO ONE LIKES YOU, ROSE!”

This makes Rose stop in her tracks. Calmly she unscrews the bottle and shakes the pink powder into her hands. It’s dotted with gold that shines in the sun. It looks like magic and it really doesn’t belong in our scruffy playground. Harriet is busy tapping away on her phone and the rest of the girls, the ones who haven’t left, are hovering uncertainly around her.

“Oh yes they do,” whispers Rose, and then she lifts her hand to her lips.