A few weeks into term, on her way back from a lecture, Chloe paused on the corridor outside her room, noticing that the door, which she was sure she had locked, was ajar, and that from inside was coming a sort of rustling noise. She pushed the door open, standing back, and looked in, framed by the wooden rectangle. In the middle of the room was a tall, thin girl with masses of blonde hair. She wore a dress which might have been a silk dressing gown, and she was pulling items of clothing from an old-fashioned suitcase and shoving them into the chest of drawers on her side of the room.

‘Hello?’ Chloe said after a moment.

The girl looked up and smiled. ‘Hi,’ she said. Her voice was breathy. She didn’t stop; her movements were fast and fluid. Chloe stood fixed to the spot, as if to step into her own room would be an intrusion. ‘Are you Zadie?’ she asked, after what felt like an hour. The back of her neck was hot.

‘Yes,’ the girl replied. ‘Can you pass me that?’ she asked, pointing to a folded silk eiderdown sitting on her desk.

Moving slowly, feeling like she’d entered some alternative universe, Chloe picked it up. It was the sort of thing her mother would have bought a cheap copy of from BHS then proudly displayed in the guest room at home. Zadie took it from her and arranged it over her bed, which, after six weeks of being rudely naked on her side of the room, was finally made up.

‘Thanks.’

‘What are you …’ Chloe tailed off. It was an obvious question. It made perfect sense to ask it. But she felt stupid anyway.

Zadie stopped moving, running her hands through her hair and wrapping it up into a knot on the top of her head. ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘you must think I’m an actual loon. Don’t worry, I’m not taking your room. You must have been so pleased when you realized you were getting a double to yourself.’

Chloe had no idea what to say to that, so she put her bag down on her desk and retreated to her bed, pulling her knees up to her chest. No, she wanted to say. I wasn’t pleased at all. I wanted you to come. But that would sound insane. ‘You’re not staying?’ she asked instead.

Zadie tipped her handbag upside down on the chest of drawers, spreading the detritus over it. She took a step back, admiring her handiwork, then looked up, as if realizing she needed to answer the question. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Well, I mean, I’m staying here at college. I’m just not staying here-here.’

‘It’s not—’ Chloe paused, but the words came out in spite of herself: ‘It’s not me?’