‘Actually, sorry, I’ve just realised I forgot my sneakers,’ says Matt. ‘Have to go back and get them or Dad will kill me,’ he says lightly, pushing past and hitting the button to open the lift doors.

‘Come on, Clem,’ he says to me. I realise it’s a ruse to get out of there and I follow him quickly. I’m crossing every digit in the hope the security guard won’t decide to wait for us.

I step out of the lift and throw a sort of smile at him, like I’m trying to tell him that I am a real hotel guest and not just rooftopping. He looks at Matt for a second and it’s the longest second of my life. Then he smiles back and the doors close and he’s gone.

Matt lets out a huge sigh and then starts laughing like everything has been bottled up and suddenly explodes. I try to join in but I can’t. Instead, I wheel around and punch him in the shoulder.

‘Ow!’

‘This is stupid. I told you it’s stupid. We almost got caught.’

‘We still might get caught,’ he says, rubbing his shoulder.

I realise it’s true. We’re still up here on the millionth floor. We have to get downstairs and outside before we’re really free.

‘Didn’t you have fun?’

‘Sort of. The sort of fun you have when you’re doing something dumb and your whole body is terrified.’

He laughs. ‘Sounds like my kind of fun.’

‘Did he know?’

Matt shrugs. ‘Don’t think so. Maybe.’

‘So he might be waiting for us when we get to the lobby?’

Instead of answering me, he slips the towel from his shoulders, folds it up, then places it on the ground near the lift.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m not a thief. Just a rooftopper.’ He says it like it should make me feel better. ‘What should we do now?’

I frown. ‘Go home.’

‘What about we go somewhere for a hot chocolate?’ He presses the down button again. I’m still thinking about going somewhere with him when there’s a ping, the doors slide open and we’re met with an empty lift.

I don’t speak all the way down. I just watch the numbers as they get closer and closer to one. The foyer is as quiet as it was when we came up, with just one couple being helped at reception. Matt and I hurry past, my wet hair streaming water down my back. As we’re about to reach the electronic doors, the security guard appears on the other side of the glass.

‘Matt,’ I whisper.

‘Keep walking,’ he says.