But his friends weren’t here now. It was just Callum with his feet in tube socks up on the table, his unfocused gaze settled on the screen.

‘Why aren’t you at work?’ Beth asked, and the corners of his mouth crept up into a smile.

‘Because I quit.’

‘You did? When?’

‘Rang them this afternoon. Told them I just couldn’t do it any more.’

‘Do your parents know?’

‘Not yet.’ He dragged on the reefer, stirred by some inner mirth. ‘I can’t wait to see the look on the old man’s face,’ he said, but Beth didn’t quite believe his bravado, the way his smile faltered, panic behind his eyes. She remembered what Lisa had said about the difficult relationship between Callum and his father, something ominous there.

‘Well, that’s a shame,’ Beth told him. ‘Cos you were the only thing I liked about that stupid club.’

‘You don’t like the club?’

‘Tennis sucks. It’s a stupid sport and the club is stuffed full of white, middle-class, privileged, elitist twats. Just like school.’

‘Hmm.’ He was looking at her now, considering her points, observing: ‘Your sister likes it well enough.’

‘What can I say? She found her tribe.’

His mouth twitched with amusement. ‘And you? Have you found yours?’

She looked down, a sudden tightening inside as she thought of Corinne, the hard point of the needle stabbing her zit. ‘I’m not sure I have a tribe.’

‘A misfit,’ he mused. ‘An outcast.’ A taint of sadness coming into his voice, as he added: ‘I can relate to that.’

Something had changed about him. Beth saw it now: a heaviness about his face, his complexion usually ruddy with health looked pasty and there was a thickening about his trunk, carrying weight where there had been none before. She recognized his unhappiness; it mirrored her own, and she considered for a moment what it was like for him – all his friends gone off to college while he was left behind. His loneliness was there in the room, and she felt moved to pity him.

‘What happened?’ she asked. ‘With your exams, I mean.’

He looked sheepish, rolling the tiny butt of the reefer between his index finger and thumb.

‘I just sort of lost it,’ he explained, sounding a little bewildered. ‘I thought I would be okay, that I was prepared – I’d put in the time. But then, my first exam, I went in and looked at the paper and it was like all the letters just swarmed over the page. This is going to sound weird, but it felt like the characters on the page were angry, like a nest of wasps disturbed.’

‘An anxiety attack.’

‘Right.’ He gave her a swift look. ‘You know what it’s like?’

‘Your heart races, you sweat like crazy. This wave of emotion swells inside you suddenly and you don’t know what to do.’