‘How long’s she going to be?’ I stare back at the receptionist through the glass. It must’ve been a busy morning – her condom fishbowl’s already half empty.

‘Just take a seat, Carly, would you?’

I square up to her as she pushes her glasses up her nose with her middle finger. I don’t care whether she’s really trying to give me the finger.

‘Drop it, Carls,’ Rach hisses, yanking me back from the glass and into a seat. ‘Don’t make this any worse than it already is.’

‘Rachel Baines?’

A tall woman in a white coat clacks out of the door in front of us.

I snort as I look up. She looks like a pencil, all skinny in her white coat with her tiny head and silly black bun of hair.

‘Could you come with me, please?’

‘Eh? Why?’ Rach asks. I watch out of the corner of my eye as she straightens, bracelets clattering against her plastic seat. She’s basically a walking advert for Claire’s now. As if anyone will think all that tacky jewellery is the real deal.

‘It won’t take a moment. This way, please.’ The woman half turns towards the open door.

‘I’m sorted. I’m just here with her…’ Rach’s hand flicks at me.

‘That’s fine. We know you are. If you could just come this way for a moment, please.’

No one speaks. The clock ticks brainlessly into the silence, like it always does.

‘Who’s asking?’ Rach’s chair scrapes as she fidgets.90

‘It’s this way. If you could just come with us for a moment…’

She must be a robot, I think. A robot pencil. There’s a curse, then another scrape before Rach’s boots clump through the open door.

I pop my chewing gum in time with the clock, slouching back into my chair. My arm hurts where Rach grabbed it, just like the rest of me. Just enough that I can feel it in the background, making it impossible to ignore what we have to do practically every week these days. But I can’t afford to think about that too much. There’s no way out of this town other than with the army. Not for girls like us.

One minute passes, then two, then five. Pop, tick, pop.

‘Carly? We’re ready for you now.’

I look up to find the pencil standing in front of me again, bun nodding towards the door. At least I manage to turn my wince into a grin as I follow her down the corridor. From behind, she looks more like a starving penguin, feet and hands jerking about as she walks.

‘Where’re we going?’ I call after her as we round a few new corners before she stops in front of a door with light streaming out underneath. There are never any windows in these cubicles.