It would have been nice to believe that she missed the parties, but the truth was Chloe loved the new pattern that she, Max and Zadie fell into in the weeks after Zadie’s ‘incident’, as Chloe had taken to calling it in her head. Max seemed to be around more, still playing rugby, but away less and almost never out of the house overnight. Zadie stopped inviting huge hordes of people over. Sometimes a few of her favourites, some girls from school, a few of the people she knew who were also studying History of Art, would mill around the kitchen drinking wine, but it had none of the nihilism of the previous parties, crowds of strangers wantonly destroying the house.

Rav hadn’t been back. Every time Chloe heard people in the kitchen she both hoped it was him and prayed that it wasn’t. But of course it never was. He had sent her a couple of texts. One straight after he had come to the house, asking if she and Zadie were okay, and another a week later, asking if she wanted to go for a drink. She hadn’t replied to either, and she wasn’t sure why. She liked seeing him. Loved seeing him. But Max’s words were stamped on her brain. She knew that he had meant it as a warning against indulging Zadie, as a reminder that she needed to have other friends, other people in her life. But that wasn’t how it felt. It felt like a reminder that if she chose someone else over Zadie, all this might go away. And anyway, their new pattern was perfect. It didn’t need anyone else. Chloe would bring books over and work in the sitting room during the afternoon while Zadie painted or slept, and in the evening they would watch a film on the huge, comfortable sofa while Zadie lay on Max’s chest at the other end and talked over every single line.

In short, it was all going so well, until Zadie remembered that it was almost Max’s birthday. The realization seemed to reignite some restlessness inside her.

‘Max,’ she said one evening, sitting in the garden with a coloured cigarette between two fingers, ‘you’re going to be twenty-one.’

‘We all are, eventually.’

‘Yes, but you’re going to be twenty-one next month, and we haven’t planned anything.’

‘Haven’t we?’

‘Have you?’ She turned to Chloe. ‘Has he? Do you know anything about this?’

Chloe shook her head. ‘Nothing. What are you planning, Max?’

Max looked incredibly pleased with himself – more so than usual. ‘Wait and see.’

‘I hate waiting,’ said Zadie. ‘It’s your birthday, we’re supposed to surprise you.’