‘Of course she’ll read it,’ said Achilles defensively. ‘Why wouldn’t she?’

‘It’s just that I’ve been around your family for a couple of days now and the only thing any of you seem to read is the screens of your phones. Well, not you, to be fair. But the others. Were you always like this?’

‘I don’t think so,’ he replied. ‘But … yes, they do seem to have an unhealthy regard for the opinions of complete strangers. Although they’re in the public eye, so perhaps it’s only natural.’

‘Your sister isn’t. And she’s surgically attached to her phone. Social media is not reality, you know. It’s a mirage.’

Achilles frowned. He didn’t like the direction the conversation was taking. Anything that upset his perfect view of the Cleverleys upset him.

‘Who is he anyway?’ he asked.

‘Who is who?’

‘This chap you’re meeting.’

‘It doesn’t matter who he is. You wouldn’t know him.’

‘Well, no, of course not. It’s not like we move in the same circles.’

‘You’re doing it again.’

‘I’m not!’ he protested, laughing a little. ‘But we don’t, do we? I’m seventeen and you’re an adult. It’s not like we have a connected group of friends.’

‘Fine,’ she said, rolling her eyes.

‘So, tell me about him. Is it a first date?’

‘Yes. It’s all happened rather unexpectedly.’

‘Do you think you’ll have sex with him?’

‘I have no intention of telling you anything about my sex life.’

‘Where’s he from, then?’

‘Ukraine.’

He frowned. ‘So, do you and this guy just sit around and talk Ukrainian politics together?’

‘Of course,’ she replied. ‘What else could we possibly discuss but that?’

‘I suppose you look into each other’s eyes and talk about great Ukrainian folk heroes and sing ballads of war-torn Odessa.’

‘Look at you, knowing where Odessa is,’ she said.

‘Lucky guess. You know when people say that they’re not just a pretty face? My problem is, that’s exactly what I am. I just want to live each day the way I want to live it, answering to no one. Getting up when I want, seeing who I want, coming home when I want.’

‘You need money to do that.’

‘I’m working on that. So, tell me about him. This boyfriend of yours. What’s he like?’

‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ she said. ‘I told you, it’s a first date.’

‘Did someone set you up with him?’

‘No, I answered a phone,’ she said. ‘And he was on the other end of it.’

‘Just a random phone?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Okay.’

‘As we spoke, I heard his accent and I told him that I was Ukrainian too, or at least my grandparents were. And we kept talking. Then, when I got home, we talked again. For hours. One thing led to another and he booked a flight to London for today. He should have landed about thirty minutes ago.’