Michelle smiled again, a seemingly visceral reaction in consideration of what she was about to say. Her demeanour was that of someone who wanted to share the joy of her new-found love with her very best friend, knowing that before this terrible encounter that friend would have pulled her into her arms, and they would have whooped with shared excitement. ‘He said I was special and not like anyone else he had been out with and that we have a connection. He thinks about me before he falls asleep, Bessie – that’s what he said! And we do have a connection, a wonderful one. I just want you to be happy for me because he makes me happy and I won’t give him up – why would I?’

Bessie recalled almost the exact same words uttered in her own ear as she kicked off her knickers. The words that she had thought were special and had filled her with pleasure and delight now made her feel stupid and grubby, no more than bait, and she had swallowed it whole.

‘Do you think you’re the first person he’s said that to, Michelle?’ she asked defiantly.

Her friend shook her head slowly, her response calm and drawn from a point of confidence. ‘No, no, I don’t, but I think it’s probably the first time he’s meant it.’

Bessie’s head jerked as if to shake off these words, which hurt as much as any physical blow. ‘Well, I hope you’ll both be very happy together.’

‘Yeah, you say that, but in such a nasty way that I know you don’t mean it. Who are you right now? I don’t even recognise you!’

I don’t recognise myself! I thought I knew who I was. I thought I was clever, I thought I was pretty, I thought Lawrence liked me and I thought you would put me first because we’re best friends . . . Bessie felt hollow, sucked out by loss, envy and the uncomfortable landslide of her confidence. The boy she loved and trusted had chosen another girl – and not just another girl, but her best friend.

‘You think I care?’ she continued. ‘Why don’t you fuck off back to Lawrence and the fucking sixth form and your fucking mixtape and your whole fucking life!’

‘I will, Bessie, I will.’

Michelle’s calmness would bother her every time she looked back on this awful exchange in the future. The way she hadn’t fallen into the bitter accusatory trap that held Bessie fast was something Bessie envied. She knew she had gone too far and Michelle’s expression of shock and horror offered ample confirmation. Bessie knew she would never forget it. Seconds later, her Michelle walked stiffly away from her down the street. Horribly sick with shame and regret at her actions, Bessie was left standing in her small front garden, shouting after her friend in her mind.