The intimacy of these relationships varied wildly. With some people, you never really got beyond A Level subjects and wildly exaggerated stories about nights at the Regal. With others, it would simply be a matter of days before you were talking about your ‘type’ and what you looked for in a relationship. Ellen had never actually had one, obviously, but she had plenty of specifications and knew exactly what she was looking for. Blond and tall – Ellen was five foot eight, and self-conscious about it – but also cerebral, literary and – ideally, though not necessarily – ‘a bit troubled’. As she attended a suburban comprehensive, this meant perhaps someone with divorced parents (separated would do), or who had been caught smoking in Rainham Boys’ school uniform and subjected to three weeks of after-school detentions.

On Monday afternoon, she and Kate were hiding out in the sixth-form centre during a free period. They were sitting on a pair of elderly chairs near the single PC. Ellen’s chair had a large tear and she was absent-mindedly pulling its cotton-wool guts out. They were alone, apart from Holly Stanley, who was at the computer, staring at the screen, her beautiful head resting on a slender wrist. Holly Stanley was the chicest girl in sixth form. She needed no make-up, and wore a Ramones T-shirt under her school shirt. She was long and slender, had once been ‘scouted’ outside the big Topshop on Oxford Circus and had gone up to London to do a test shoot in Soho.

‘I’ve taken Nathan Harris off the list,’ Ellen said, absent-mindedly.

Kate was familiar with the list. ‘Oh yeah,’ she said, putting on lipgloss in a compact mirror. ‘Why?’

‘Well, you know I had high hopes for him,’ Ellen said, regretfully. ‘But he’s got no chat. And his grammar’s terrible.’

‘Your standards are too high,’ Kate snorted. She puckered her lips and stared at Ellen. ‘It’s MSN. It’s not about grammar.’

‘Yeah, but he’s also really boring,’ Ellen protested. ‘If he had great chat but bad grammar, I wouldn’t mind.’

Kate raised her eyebrows. Ellen shrugged and returned to pulling the cotton wool out of the chair.

‘I’ve got a name,’ Holly said, conversationally.

Ellen looked up in surprise, as if uncertain that it was Holly who had spoken. Kate also stared at Holly, her newly glossy lips slightly parted. Holly didn’t seem particularly phased by their nonplussed reaction.

‘If you want someone a bit clever,’ she said, turning back to the PC. ‘Well, I’ve got someone you can have, if you like.’ She tapped a key on the keyboard, hard. ‘Or whatever.’

Kate was still staring at Ellen, who gathered her wits and senses.

‘Um …’ Ellen started. ‘Yeah … um, I mean, if you don’t mind? That’d be …’ She paused, and then leaned in. ‘I mean, what’s he like?’

Holly did not react. She pressed another key.