It seemed as if Zadie’s advice had worked. As she sat down in the chair, intimidatingly placed on the other side of the desk to the three older women, she watched the expressions of concern on their faces.

‘So, Chloe,’ said her tutor in a gentle voice, ‘tell me a bit about what’s been going on.’

What was she supposed to say now? Zadie had coached her the night before. Say as little as possible, get them as worried as possible.

‘I’ve been having a hard time,’ she said slowly.

‘Okay. Can you tell us a little more about that?’

‘I’m not sleeping much.’ That was true. A few hours a night. Never before 2 a.m. ‘And then I don’t make it to my lectures because I’m so tired.’

They all nodded. Good. This was going well.

‘Have you felt overwhelmed academically?’

No. Not really. She’d dashed off most of the work that needed doing and handed it in; she was still just about passing. And the marks from the first year didn’t count towards her final degree grade anyway, so everyone said that going for anything over a pass mark was a waste of time.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘A bit.’

They asked more questions. She answered as close to honestly as she could.

‘Our other worry,’ the tutor said, her voice even gentler now, ‘is that Jules says she doesn’t see you around the halls much any more.’

What was she supposed to say to that?

‘I stay over with a friend sometimes,’ she ventured, once the silence had grown too loud to ignore.

‘A friend?’

‘A couple of friends. They live off campus. On Archer Crescent.’ She wasn’t sure why she was expecting them to look impressed; they were adults. They didn’t care about Archer Crescent.

‘And these friends, are they—’ Her tutor paused. ‘Do you feel safe with them?’

Chloe felt stung. ‘Yes, of course I do.’

‘And is this a platonic friendship?’

She mistook Chloe’s silence for her not knowing what ‘platonic’ meant. ‘I mean, is this a boyfriend?’

‘No. Just friends.’

‘It seems like you’re gone for weeks at a time,’ said Jules. ‘The girls on your corridor say that they barely see you any more.’

‘Well, maybe I don’t want to see them because they’re the kind of people who tell tales on other adults.’ Her voice was sharper than she had intended. ‘Sorry,’ she added, regaining control. She couldn’t lose their sympathy. She mustn’t screw this up.

‘Could you step outside please, Chloe?’