She points at two trays, one laden with pizza and the other with sweets, crisps, chocolate and drinks. We take a tray each and Tracey follows me as I creep out into the hallway.

It is empty, but I can see the dining room through the open door, set with limitless cutlery, beautiful white flowers down the middle of the table and crystal glasses sparkling in the light of the fire. Martha always outdoes herself on these occasions.

Halfway up the stairs, we hear an aggressive voice from the floor above, shouting, “Not now!” and a door slamming.

“Come on,” I say to Tracey quickly.

I close my bedroom door firmly behind us and put the tray down on the bed.

“Was that your dad?” Tracey asks.

“Yeah.”

“He didn’t come to find you when he got home? To say hello?”

“He never does. Sometimes it’s like he forgets I’m here at all. I can go days without seeing or speaking to him. Once I counted and it was thirteen days before he saw me at dinner one Sunday and asked me to pass the salt.”

“Seriously?”

I shrug.

“It must get lonely.”

“I guess that’s why I rely on people like Eloise, Emily and Steph. I know they can be… you know… but they understand. El in particular. Her father isn’t that much better than mine, so she knows where I’m coming from and what it can be like sometimes. Her mother is nice enough, but she hardly sees her dad too. And Eloise is honest – you always know where you stand with her. She tells you what you need to hear. Steph and Emily are ok – both airheads, really dumb and will say what they think you want them to say – but El is smart. I know she doesn’t seem like it, but she is.”

Why am I telling her all of this? Trying to justify my friendship?

“I’m sure she is. I just don’t think she’s the kind of person I could be friends with – and she certainly doesn’t want to be friends with me.”

“She just a bit protective of me, I think.”

“What does she think I’m going to do to you?”

“I don’t know.”

She looks like she wants to say more, but instead reaches over and grabs some pizza. “Can I?”

“Yeah, of course.”

She takes an enthusiastic bite. “God, this is amazing.”

My mouth is watering as I watch her. I can smell the cheese, can taste the pepperoni in my mouth already. I reach out, then pull my hand back.

“You not having any?”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Who says?”

“No one – it’s just that I have to wear a bikini for the pool party…”

“So?”