Liv tried not to stare at a heavily tattooed man who rode a scooter across the floor. A woman with a shaved head wore so many rings through her nose, ears and eyebrows you could hang curtains on them. Liv felt very boring in her retro Coca-Cola T-shirt and jeans. She had always envied people who did things their own way. They might dye their hair flamingo pink, or wear tartan trousers when they weren’t Scottish. She wondered how it would feel to walk into a room and to be seen.

She took a photo of the golf course and WhatsApped it to her mum. My meeting place for the day!

Very fancy, Carol replied. Hope you’ve brought your golf club. Come over for cake soon x.

Liv replied, If it’s Victoria sponge, I’m in x.

She saw Matilda heading toward her with the flounce of a catwalk model. She wore a red tiger-print dress, and pink sandals with huge wedged soles. Her lips were overplump and she had marker pen eyebrows.

“Liv, you didn’t have to dress up,” she said, smirking at Liv’s jeans.

Liv consciously ran a hand down her T-shirt. “You look glam, as always.”

“I’m temping here for a while, getting myself noticed.” Matilda waved a hand as if she was royalty. “Follow me. We’ll grab a smoothie and you can tell me what Medusa wants.”

She led the way across the grass and up a spiral staircase to the next floor. There was a juice bar and a man’s blond spiky hair bobbed above the fruit-filled baskets on the counter. Liv took out her purse.

Matilda shot out a hand and pushed it away. “Don’t pay,” she snorted. “It’s a perk.”

The list of smoothies was bewildering and contained ingredients Liv wouldn’t normally associate with drinks, like turmeric, kale and cucumber. “The Swampalicious sounds interesting,” she said.

“Make it two,” Matilda said to the spiky-haired man.

“Please,” Liv added on her behalf.

They sat down on low pink stools that had cow udders underneath.

“So, what’s this about?” Matilda said.

Liv sipped the khaki concoction and picked out something stringy from between her teeth. “Essie wants me to do some of her admin work, and I don’t know where to start,” she said vaguely.

Matilda tossed her hair. “Well, hello, can’t Medusa tell you that?”

Liv wished she wouldn’t use that name for Essie. “She’s working away,” she said, thinking the excuse sounded more plausible each time she used it.

“Really? She hardly ever leaves that apartment. When she does, it’s like some kind of top-secret mission. Have you noticed she vanishes? It’s pretty obvious why.” Matilda tipped a pretend glass to her lips.

Redness mottled Liv’s cheeks. “Do you know where she goes to?”