She wasn’t entirely sure what she was trying to achieve by going into hiding. It wasn’t as if she would bump into anyone from the party in such a pedestrian location as the common room or the college bar. But still, the idea of seeing anyone again, let alone risking making a fool of herself all over again, was too much to bear. She wished she had someone to phone, someone close enough who could make her feel better about what had happened. But when she went through her mental Rolodex of people, no one seemed right. All her friends from home existed in a chain. In a group, they made sense. But she felt that none of them seemed close enough individually for it to seem right to pick up the phone.

She would go to bed. There was nothing wrong with getting an early night. Then she could have an early start in the morning in order to … what? Work on her essay? Go for a run? She sighed as she pulled on her pyjamas, cleansed her face, brushed her teeth and tied her hair into a neat bun, just as her mother had taught her to do.

‘Chloe?’ A voice came from outside the door, accompanied by a knock that sounded more like a slam.

Chloe froze, feeling as if she had been caught doing something unspeakable. ‘Yes?’ she replied, hating the shake in her voice.

‘Can I come in?’ The door opened alongside the words and in half fell Zadie. ‘Oh, no,’ she said, looking horrified. ‘You were going to bed.’ Her voice was thick and her lips were tinted with dried red wine. ‘I’ve interrupted you going to bed. I’m so, so sorry. What time is it?’

Chloe pushed her alarm clock face down. ‘About ten,’ she lied. ‘What’s wrong? Come in.’

Zadie flopped on to her bed, still wearing her shoes and coat, and looked at the ceiling. ‘Can I stay here tonight?’

‘It’s your room, too. Of course you can.’

‘Thank goodness for you.’

‘What happened?’

Zadie got up and started stripping off her clothes. She shimmied off her heavy fur coat and dropped it on to the floor. Then she pulled off the dress she was wearing, a flimsy pink thing which couldn’t have been much protection against the late-November winds outside. Her skin was pink with cold. She unhooked her bra and dropped it on the floor. Much to Chloe’s surprise, she was wearing a suspender belt, which she deftly started unhooking. ‘Max and I had a fight.’

‘Oh, no,’ Chloe said, trying desperately not to stare at Zadie’s near-naked body. She was ballerina thin, with long, lean muscles. Her breasts were so perfect Chloe couldn’t help wondering whether they might have had some assistance. It was something of a relief when Zadie got under the duvet, leaving her clothes in a pool on the floor.

‘What kind of fight?’