‘Aye, you’re right. Not the best time for a detox, right enough.’ She laughs, and picks up her bag. I grip onto the handrails and pull myself up the steep steps, my bag still on my shoulders. I’d debated the safety of this, seeing the size of the gap between the train and the platform, and considering my still-fragile state. But thankfully I make it onto the train unscathed, and without losing anything into the abyss.

I poke my head around the open doors of each cabin that I pass until I find her, three down. Good – not too far from the toilets, but far enough that we’ll avoid the constant annoyance of the sliding doors. She’s sitting on one of the beds, her rucksack already open, contents spilled across the covers.

‘What you looking for?’ I throw my rucksack onto the other bed and sit down opposite. The cabin is pretty much the same as the last one. I’m assuming it’s the same class of train. The colours and the fittings all look familiar.

‘Speaker,’ she says. ‘Haven’t had a chance to use it yet. I had it in my bag when we went to the nomad camp, but there was no point seeing as my phone battery died after the first night.’

She’s not looking at me when she speaks, and yet I know she’s lying. A memory swims into my vision. Carrie tapping furiously on her phone. Me trying to grab it off her. Her laughing. Dancing. Pulling me close to her.

Carrie plugs her phone into the charger under the small table that separates our beds, and then plugs the speaker into her phone. She jabs at it for a moment longer, and then the music starts playing. I recognise it from the first three bars. It’s ‘Move any Mountain’ by The Shamen. She climbs up onto her bed and starts doing some rave moves that I haven’t seen anyone do since the nineties.

‘Aww, I miss this music,’ she says, still moving her arms in jagged little movements. ‘Remember when all the clubs played this stuff? Those were the best times. All the club music is shite now, and all the clubbers are rubber-lipped posers. Not proper ravers. Not like us.’ She jumps down, then picks up the phone and switches the music off. She’s breathing heavily, her face shining from her exertions. She sits down hard on the bed and looks away. ‘Maybe not that song though, eh? I’ll find us another classic instead.’