Afterwards, Beth would think back over the signs that she’d missed – the note of giddy excitement in Nicole’s voice that made no sense, the glance exchanged with Sasha as they approached, the way Lisa stood off to one side, refusing to meet her gaze. But at the time, any little warning voice sounding in her head was drowned out by the screaming want inside her, the need to be forgiven, accepted, enfolded into their group. Her longing must have been so obvious to them, so easy to manipulate, and all the time she’d thought she kept it so well hidden.

‘Good to see you, Beth,’ Sasha said. Then, over her shoulder to the boys, she said: ‘Guys, this is Beth.’

‘What’s up,’ Beth said, her eyes sweeping the ground, and Sasha laughed, not unkindly.

‘Hey, cute outfit,’ she pronounced, her gaze settling on the green slip-dress that Corinne had selected for her to wear that day. She’d paired it with her red Converse and a denim jacket. It had felt all right – better than some of the clothes Corinne had persuaded her into – but now she felt exposed under Sasha’s assessing gaze. Her legs were too white, her hips and waist too lumpy.

‘Do you smoke, Beth?’ Sasha asked, her head to one side. This close, Beth could see the dusting of purple mascara on Sasha’s lashes, making her eyes look more richly brown.

‘Here. Have one of mine,’ Sasha said, flipping open her carton and taking a cigarette for herself before holding the pack out to Beth.

‘No, that’s okay—’

‘Oh, come on! Let’s have a smoke together, huh? Seal our friendship with nicotine.’ She took a step towards her and Beth felt the force of her enthusiasm. It seemed rude to decline.

Almost as soon as she put out her hand to take it, she felt the air tightening with expectancy, announcing the trap. Touching the cigarette, she knew something was wrong – it felt wrong. She drew it from the carton and saw the tight cotton pellet in her fingers trailing the tell-tale blue cotton string. Instantly, laughter erupted around her, and Beth stared at the tampon in her hand, the bandstand tilting beneath her, the sickening drop happening in her stomach.

Nicole was guffawing like a crazy person. Sasha leaned into Beth’s face, saying: ‘Now stuff that into your fanny, you filthy little gimp,’ delivering the words so sweetly, sugar laced with poison.

One of the skateboarders said: ‘I don’t get it,’ and Sasha turned to explain it to him.

But Beth’s eyes were on Lisa. Lisa who stood with her head lowered, refusing to meet her gaze.

‘That’s fucking gross,’ the boy remarked, and the girls collapsed into gales of laughter.