‘It gave us a laugh. Once we figured out what it was supposed to be.’

‘I thought it was a cocktail sausage,’ Holly says. ‘Only smaller.’

She bounces it Selena’s way with a glance – Your turn – but Selena looks away. She remembers that day in the Court with Andrew Moore and his friends, just a few months ago, the wild gale of new strength whipping her breath away: We can do this we can say this whether they want us to or not. Now it feels stupid, like spending your afternoon hand-slapping some bratty snotty toddler that isn’t even yours. The speed of things changing makes her feel carsick.

‘Was it your baby brother’s?’ Julia asks. ‘Because kiddie porn is illegal.’

‘Man,’ says Finbar, shoving Marcus and grinning. ‘You told us it got her all wet.’

They all sound like yammering nothing. Chris hasn’t moved. Selena wants to go home and lock herself in a toilet cubicle and cry.

‘Maybe he meant she wet herself laughing,’ says Holly, charitably. ‘Which she almost did.’

Marcus can’t think of anything to do to Julia and Holly, so he launches himself onto Finbar. They wrestle and grunt through the weeds, half showing off for the girls but meaning it anyway.

Becca, frantically jabbing buttons, is on the edge of tears. ‘Did you check if they’re on your SIM card?’ Selena asks.

‘I checked everywhere!’

‘Hey,’ says someone, and Selena feels the jolt slam through her even before she turns her head. Chris drops down to sit beside Becca and holds out his hand. ‘Give us a look.’

Becca whips her phone out of reach and gives Chris a suspicious glare. It’s OK, Selena wants to say, you can give it to him, don’t be scared. She knows better, a whole bunch of different ways, than to say anything.

‘Whoa, look at that!’ Someone from Marcus’s gang, whooping across Marcus and Finbar still rolling in the weeds. ‘Harper’s into mingers!’

‘You’re wasting your time,’ Holly tells Chris. ‘She doesn’t actually have tit pics.’

‘She doesn’t actually have tits—’

Chris ignores them both. To Becca, gently, the way he’d coax a prickling cat: ‘I might be able to get your photos back. I used to have that phone; it does this weird thing sometimes.’

Becca wavers. His face, clear and steady-eyed: Selena knows how it opens you. Becca’s hand comes out, her fingers uncurl on the phone.

‘Fucking hell!’ Marcus yells, sitting up with a hand to his face and blood coming out between his fingers. ‘My fucking nose!’

‘Yeah. Well.’ Finbar dusts himself off, half scared, half proud, glancing over at the girls. ‘You went for me, man.’

‘You were asking for it!’

‘I started it,’ Julia points out. ‘Are you planning on punching me too? Or just sending me more mini-dick pics?’