‘God, no, you couldn’t pay him to act. I saw him coming off the rugby pitch and he was the best-looking boy I had ever seen in my life so I ran over and gave him my phone number. Everyone else was horrified that I’d made the first move, but then here we are.’

‘Zadie,’ said Chloe, slowly. ‘What’s this?’ She held up a small leather box.

Zadie looked stunned. It was the first time Chloe had ever seen her lost for words.

‘Open it.’

Puncturing the velvet cushion was a ring with a square port-red ruby flanked by two blinding diamonds. Chloe gave a long, low sigh. ‘Is this what I think it is?’

‘It’s a ring,’ said Zadie, but her voice couldn’t hide her excitement.

‘It’s an engagement ring …’

‘He’s not going to propose – we’re still students!’

‘Why is it in here, then? Try it on.’

Zadie looked as if she was going to say no, but clearly couldn’t resist. She slid the ring on to her long finger. It was too big, the heavy stone swivelling around to the back of her hand. She twisted it back around, clamped her fingers together and held out her hand. The girls both squealed. ‘Will you be my bridesmaid?’ Zadie asked.

Chloe’s heart swelled. ‘Of course!’

They jumped up and down, staring at the ring, until the slamming of the front door punctured their revelling. Zadie slipped the ring back in the box, Chloe replaced it in the drawer and they went back downstairs, pretending that nothing had happened.

Zadie

Max was splayed on the sofa, beautiful as he always was, but his face was twisted in an expression of complete concentration, a video-game controller between his hands. Zadie smacked a bottle down on the kitchen counter, hoping he would notice. He didn’t. She did it again.

‘If you want to have an argument, then you need to come in here!’ Max called from the living room. Zadie almost laughed, teetering on the edge of being amused by him. She went through, watching her bare feet on the wooden floorboards as she walked. ‘I don’t want to fight.’

‘Yes, you do. You always do that slamming-around thing when you’re building up to a big row.’ He sat up and held his arms out to her. ‘How about we try this? You come here and tell me what’s wrong.’

Zadie wanted to stay cross, but his body was so warm and firm. She rested her head on his chest and felt her shoulders unfurl as he stroked her hair, a gesture that always thawed her.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. ‘The party?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re upset that I didn’t consult you about it?’

‘No.’

‘Really?’

‘Well, maybe a bit. I’m good at parties. Parties are my thing. And you’re my boyfriend. Isn’t it my job to throw you a party?’