Jessie just laughed; she didn’t care either way, that was obvious. ‘So what if she does? If it was left to my mum and dad I would never leave the house without an armed guard. If I get busted, that’s my problem, Nat, not yours. Anyway, if my mum did decide to ring, she would ring me on my mobile.’ Jessie busied herself lighting a cigarette; after pulling the smoke deeply into her lungs, she said dismissively, ‘I really don’t give a flying fuck, Natalie. If I did get a capture, you know I’d take the flak – you wouldn’t be dragged into anything. If that’s what’s bothering you, then forget it. I don’t need anything from anyone, mate.’

Natalie knew when she was beaten and, as usual, she would do exactly what Jessie wanted her to. It had been like that since they were little kids. Jessie had always been the boss of the relationship and Natalie had never minded until recently. Now all Jessie wanted from her these days was an alibi. Unlike Jessie, Natalie had no interest in pubs or clubs, in meeting men who were far too old, and who expected far too much in return for the drinks they provided.

Jessie Flynn was getting a real reputation, but that didn’t seem to bother her in the least. She was fifteen years old, but with her make-up and her clothes she looked at least twenty-five. She also had a way with her that belied her youth; she seemed so much older than her years. Everything about her friend, though, was an elaborate act. No matter how much Jessie tried to pretend that she was a grown-up, Natalie knew different. But she was still her friend, and that counted for a lot more than Jessie realised.

‘OK. So who are you meeting this time?’

Jessie grinned mischievously. She had got what she wanted. Stretching her whole body slowly and luxuriously, she laid herself across Natalie’s bed like a cat. Every movement was sensuous, dripping with her youthful sex appeal.

Natalie had always been envious of Jessie; she had developed very early, and now she had a body that any woman would kill for. She was high-breasted, with a slim waist and long legs. With her good looks and her amazing hair, it was a dangerous combination.

Natalie was pretty enough, but she knew she wasn’t in Jessie Flynn’s league. Men had been watching Jessie since she was thirteen, and who could blame them? She was stunning.

‘Come on, Jessie, spill!’

Jessie stretched herself once more, a deliberate, sexual movement that made Natalie feel uneasy. It was too calculated, too deliberate.

‘His name is Bill, and he is a builder. He is really good-looking, Nat.’

Natalie was intrigued despite herself. ‘How old is he?’

Jessie pouted sexily. ‘Late thirties. I’m not really sure, to be honest.’