‘Oh, really?’ Corinne laughed. ‘I think you have a lot to tell me. You’ve been very naughty, no?’

Fear gathered in her throat. ‘You’re full of shit, Corinne. Now get out of my fucking room.’

The other girl stood and then came towards her. As she approached, Eva instinctively stepped back. But Corinne reached out her hand and gently pushed the door shut. This close, Eva could feel the warmth of the girl’s breath against her face.

‘Just imagine,’ Corinne said, ‘what your parents would think were they to find out what you’ve been doing. How shocked they would be if I told them about that picture you sent him. The next-door neighbour.’

‘They wouldn’t believe you. And besides, you’ve no proof.’

‘Or his pretty wife. What do you think she would say if I told her? She could check through his messages – I’m sure he kept it.’

Eva’s heart was beating hard now. The room felt small and oppressive, her mind flitting all over the place, but there was nowhere for her to go. No one to turn to.

‘I don’t want to fight with you, Eva,’ the girl said, her voice softening, but still Eva didn’t trust her. ‘But I am worried. He is no good for you. I can see that. He doesn’t make you happy.’

‘You don’t know the first thing about it.’

‘I see the way you run around after him. Why do you let him control you?’

‘I don’t. This is bullshit.’ But her mind twitched at Corinne’s suggestion, thinking of the lectures she had missed just so she could be with Ross. And even when she was in university a part of her felt absent, as if she was just treading water until the time passed and she could be with him again.

‘Do you love him?’ Corinne asked, and Eva felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

‘That’s none of your business.’

‘Does he love you?’

Did he? There were moments when he looked at her and she felt sure he was on the verge of saying it.

Corinne had eased herself on to the bed again, resuming her reclining pose. Something patient in her manner, her stare, as if suggesting she could wait all night.

‘You are not happy,’ Corinne observed, words whispered like silk over skin. ‘I can help you.’

But Eva didn’t trust this. The threat of the photograph lingered in the air between them, like a foul odour that would not dissipate.

‘What makes you think I need your help?’ she asked.

The girl smiled through the darkness, her eyes shining with a peculiar light, and a feeling came over Eva then of panic, indistinguishable from the suspicion that lapped inside.

‘We all need a friend,’ Corinne said softly. ‘Trust me. Let me be yours.’

25