‘Oh, sweetheart, how utterly disgusting,’ said Sienna, sounding more like herself now. She didn’t bother to dumb down her accent when she was being sincere about something. ‘What are you up to now then? Are you free for the rest of the evening?’

‘Well, I’ve got loads of reading to do for next term …’

‘Oh, that really is silly. You work far too hard as it is. Just jump in a cab and get yourself to the Crack Den, pronto!’ The Crack Den was their name for the boys’ house in Dalston. ‘We’d all love to see you … wouldn’t we, boys?’ Sam could hear male voices of assent in the background.

‘Really?’ She hadn’t seen the boys since the time she’d turned Dan down after their day at the Hawley, and was still feeling a bit bad about the whole thing. But then again, they’d had such a nice, giggly time getting stoned together afterwards, that maybe it didn’t matter.

‘Of course, really, you idiot. Just get your arse in a cab and I’ll pay for it this end.’

‘Thanks, but no need for that.’ Sam had her pride. ‘I’m nearly at Piccadilly Circus. I’ll get the Tube.’

‘Piccadilly Circus to Dalston? In the rush hour? You must be …’ Sam could hear someone shushing Sienna in the background. ‘Well, rather you than me, darling. OK, we’ll see you when we see you.’

When Sam eventually poked her head around the door, Sienna, Dan, Mikey and Olly were sitting on bare wooden floorboards, smoking joints, drinking beer out of cans and playing Scrabble. Loud rock music blared from the enormous sound system that dominated one corner of the open-plan living room, and the rain still thrashing down outside was clearly audible through the curtainless windows.

‘Hello?’ she said tentatively, not wanting to make a nuisance of herself.

Sienna, who was wearing a Flaming Geysers T-shirt and black leather hot pants that showed off her long, pale legs, leapt to her feet and ran towards her.

‘Sammi-Jo! At last! We thought you were never going to get here. Was the journey absolutely horrendous?’

The journey had involved a Tube so packed that she’d had to let three trains go past before she could squeeze onto one, a bus that lurched with infuriating slowness through the traffic on the Essex Road, and a ten-minute walk in the rain. It had taken nearly an hour and a half in total.

Sam just shrugged and said. ‘Had worse. But please don’t call me Sammi-Jo.’

Sienna recoiled slightly, looking hurt. ‘Sorry, babes, it was only meant to be a joke.’

‘Not a very funny one,’ said Dan, not looking up from his letters. ‘Her name’s Sam.’

Sam looked over at him gratefully and smiled, but he was still engrossed in his letters, his dark brown fringe flopping over his face as he looked down.

‘Sorry sorry sorry,’ said Sienna, giving Sam a huge hug. ‘I’m a bit stoned. Didn’t mean to be offensive.’