As she looked at her phone, it started ringing, making her jump. It was Dan.

‘Hey, Sambo,’ he said in his sexy Northern accent. ‘We’re having a Leo at the Hawley. Fancy joining us?’

‘What’s a Leo?’

‘Leo Sayer, all-dayer!’

‘OK, sounds cool. I’ll be there soon.’

Sod the hangover; an all-day drinking session with some cool boys in a band was just what she needed to take her mind off Mark.

Standing at the bar, Sam downed another shot of tequila. Dan, Mikey and Olly were there, in their trilbies and skinny jeans, and loads of girls with radical haircuts were hovering on the sidelines, wanting to be associated with them, but trying to pretend they weren’t bothered in the slightest. Ross, the bassist, was out looking at flats with his girlfriend, Katie. They had become inseparable and he was planning to move out of the house the boys all shared in Dalston as soon as he could.

They’d been drinking solidly for about six hours now and Sam was feeling pleasantly dissociated from emotion. It was there, lurking somewhere on the outskirts of her psyche, but not quite able to penetrate the fug of booze.

Mikey’s phone beeped.

‘Oooh, look, text from Scotty.’ He opened it and started laughing. ‘She really likes to slum it, doesn’t she, our Scotty?’ He passed the phone to Sam, who laughed too. Sienna had sent Mikey a photo of herself, reclining next to a vast, mosaic-tiled pool. She was wearing a tiny bikini but protecting her face from the sun with her lace parasol. In the background was the cypress-flanked fourteenth-century palazzo, all marble statues and fountains, and in the distance you could just make out rolling hills, olive trees and vineyards.

‘Lucky bugger,’ said Sam without rancour. She missed Sienna like mad and could really have done with her company since finding out about Mark and Karolina.

‘Let’s call her,’ said Mikey, in that way that pissed people do.

‘Oooh, yeah, great idea!’

After five minutes or so of shouting a mixture of filth, sentimentality and gibberish down the phone, Mikey passed it to Sam.

‘Hey, Sienna.’

‘Hello, darling. Been drinking all day then?’

‘How’d you guess?’ Sam laughed. ‘Don’t think I’m quite as drunk as Mikey, but I’m getting there. How are you? That photo you sent was gorgeous.’

‘It’s heavenly here, but my bloody parents are driving me mad. And Jazz is being a nightmare. She is such a spoilt brat.’

Sam bit her lip to stop laughing at Sienna’s reference to her younger sister.

‘Also, I feel a total philistine every time I see signs to Siena and realize yet again how appallingly educated my parents were when they gave me the extra “n”.’ Sam did laugh at this. ‘So how are you anyway? Is London terribly dreary without me?’

‘I’ve got lots of stuff to tell you, but not here.’ Sam’s eyes darted furtively over to the boys.

They chatted for a bit, then Sam handed Mikey back his phone.