“It should stop stinging in a minute,” she says as she dabs at the blood. “Do you need anything for the pain? I think we’ve got some paracetamol, if you need it.” She glances up at me from her kneeling position on the wooden kitchen floor. “Or I could find something stronger?”

“No, I’m fine, honestly. It doesn’t really hurt.”

I look away from her smiling, friendly face to the red plastic bucket and grey tatty mop propped up against the wall, and a question forms in my mind.

“Sally?”

“Yes.”

“Where were you? When you heard me fall over? There wasn’t anyone else in the dorm.”

“I was in the shower block,” she says as she reaches for another piece of cotton wool and crosses the room to the sink. “I was cleaning.”

She holds the cotton wool under the tap and turns the faucet. If she was in the shower block then she wasn’t cleaning very vigorously or we would have heard her. You can hear everything that goes on in there – every splish, every splash, every flush. Everything.

So if she wasn’t cleaning then she was listening. She heard me tell Al that Isaac felt me up during my massage. She heard me call Isis a fake psychic. She heard every word we said.

“Emma? Are you okay?” Sally glides across the room, the damp cotton wool outstretched. Black spots appear in front of my eyes and a rush of nausea makes me slump forward over my knees.

“Emma?” She crouches in front of me. “Emma, are you okay? You look a little green. Would you like a glass of water?”

“I’m sorry,” I say as she floats back to the sink and returns with a glass of water. She presses it into my hands and I gulp at it. “I’m really sorry if you heard us talk—”

She’s about to reply when Rajesh the chef bowls into the room, his white apron splattered with red, orange and brown stains, and wraps Sally in a huge bear hug, sweeping her off her feet. “Ah, my beautiful Sally.” She squeals in surprise and his big, dark face lights up with delight as he gazes down at her. His expression morphs into horror when he notices me watching.

“What’s she doing here?” He pushes Sally away from him.

“This is Emma.” Her smile falters. “She’s one of the new girls. She fell over on the walkway. I was dressing her knee.”

“You should have warned me you had company. I need to talk to you.” He glances back towards the hallway. “In private.”

“Okay.” Sally swallows noticeably. “What … where?”

“In there.” He points towards the pantry then glances at me. “I’ve made a new spice mix. It’s experimental and I need a second opinion.”

I don’t believe a word he’s saying. What’s going on?