I ignore her and move over to make space.

Tracey hesitates, then comes over.

“Have you met everyone? This is Eloise, Steph and Emily,” I say, indicating each pinched face.

“Hi, I’m Tracey.” She smiles nervously. I notice she has opted for the toasted cheese too. I smile back and take a big bite of my sandwich. God, it’s good.

“So, settling in ok? Finding where everything is?” I say to fill the awkward silence. El is staring resolutely in the opposite direction, her legs crossed so that anyone wanting to pass must step over her dangling foot.

“Yeah, I guess. It’s not that much different to my old school, except it’s smaller and everyone seems… posher, I guess. I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”

“Not at all – and you’re right! Wall-to-wall privilege here, me included, I’m afraid.” I laugh shrilly.

“So what are you doing here then?” El’s voice is frigid.

“Um, well, my parents inherited a dairy farm and this is the closest school, so here I am.”

“I guess they’ll let anyone in these days,” El replies.

Steph and Emily titter.

“Where are you from originally then?” El persists.

“From Nottingham,” she says.

“No, I mean originally.”

“Nottingham,” she says pointedly.

“Oh god, school photos later this afternoon. I almost forgot.” I say loudly and grimace. I’m going for change-the-subject chic, but my voice is loud. It slips and slides across the ice that has formed in the air.

El points at Tracey’s hair and says, “You obviously didn’t know it was photographs today. But there’s probably not much you can do with your kind of hair. How do you even brush that?”

Brian wanders over with a posse of boys behind him. “Ladies,” he says. I want to shudder at how creepy he sounds.

Eloise swivels towards him, uncrosses, then recrosses her legs so that her skirt rides up a little higher. “Brian.”

“Are you going to introduce us to your new friend?” He reaches out and takes Tracey’s hand in his, pretending to kiss the back of it.

El freezes.

“Leave her alone, Brian,” I say.

“Oh, come now, I’m only being polite to the pretty lady. Where are you from?”

“Nottingham,” Tracey and I both say at the same time and I smile at her, embarrassed by my friends’ ignorance.

Eloise’s eyes have narrowed. She reaches over and grabs the tomato ketchup sachet from my plate.

“Can I have one of your chips please, Hels? But with ketchup?” she says and angles the sachet at Tracey.

She tears into it and the ketchup squirts out of the sachet, all over Tracey’s white shirt. Tracey jumps back. Her knee connects with the table, overturning the drink on her tray. She is left with ketchup dripping down her front and a wet lap.

Brian and his friends start laughing uproariously, followed very quickly by Steph and Emily.