‘Mega-clever, eh?’ said the pretty blond one who could easily pass for the lead singer in a manufactured boy band, had his apparel not been trying to shriek ‘alternative’ quite so loudly. His tone was affectionately mocking. ‘Is that, like, cleverer than super-clever?’

‘Cleverer than you, anyway, shit-for-brains,’ said the other boy. ‘Hi. I’m Dan.’ He stood up and held out his hand, which Sam shook, looking up at him. Gosh, he was tall. ‘Clever and pretty. Nice combination.’ He smiled a charming smile and Sam felt a rush of blood to her cheeks. With his black leather jacket, floppy dark hair and high-cheekboned, almost lupine face, he was the stuff young girls’ dreams were made of.

A couple of hours later, Sam had ascertained that Dan, Mikey, Ross (bassist) and Olly (drummer) had all grown up in Manchester. Mikey, Olly and Ross had formed a previous incarnation of the band at school together; Dan had been recruited later, after an impromptu jamming night at a student gig. All in their mid-twenties, they’d been doing the pub circuit for the last couple of years, touring the country in a rackety old Volkswagen van and clocking up a loyal groupie fan-base.

‘But those girls are nothing, y’know?’ Dan said, nonchalantly, sliding one arm along the back of the banquette so it rested atop Sam’s shoulders. ‘Silly little slappers. You and Scottie have a bit more class than that.’ He pronounced it to rhyme with gas.

Sam looked over at Sienna and burst out laughing. Her new friend had had her tongue down Mikey’s throat for at least the last forty-five minutes. One of the straps of her vest top had fallen off a pearly white shoulder and her long, slender, purple-clad thighs were clamped tightly around Mikey’s probing left hand.

Dan followed her gaze and started to laugh too. ‘Well, OK, maybe that’s not the classiest I’ve ever seen Scotty behave, but believe me, you two are leagues above the rest of them.’

Just as Sam was starting to feel as cool as only a girl who’s been told she’s with the band can feel, Dan lunged at her. For a second she let herself succumb to his kiss, then pulled away, reluctantly.

‘Sorry, Dan, I can’t. Really. I mean, I really like you and everything, but I’ve got a boyfriend. And I really love him.’ She looked up at him with enormous imploring eyes, begging him to understand, not to drive her back into social Siberia.

Dan turned away and shrugged, making Sam’s heart sink. Then he turned back and smiled his sexy smile again.

‘OK, cool, no worries. I’m not exactly short of totty anyway. Let’s you and me be friends. I like you, Sam.’

‘I like you too, Dan.’ Sam beamed, feeling great. She’d done the right thing, and made friends with an up-and-coming rock star. She couldn’t wait to tell Marky (though she’d probably leave out the two or three seconds she’d let Dan kiss her).

‘That makes two of us then,’ said Dan, reaching for his Golden Virginia and silver Rizlas. ‘Fancy a smoke outside?’