‘Oxbridge stream,’ mimicked Jake. ‘Since when does that make someone not a tosser? Look at this lot.’ He and Cassie were back in the swing seat, with the bottle of wine Cassie had pilfered while her parents were busy fussing over their guests. Would anyone like an amuse-bouche? Or even some crisps? Dinner’s a little held up, sorry. Cassie’s mum was so anxious all the time. For someone who didn’t really work, she seemed mega stressed. Who cared what time dinner was at? It wasn’t even dark yet. The grown-ups, six of them, were sitting round the wooden picnic table. On one bench were Callum and Jodi, like a massive marshmallow. On the other were her parents, her mum looking round her anxiously every few minutes, at the kitchen, or at Cassie, or the living room where Benji was playing Xbox. Bill, who was a cool guy, was sitting on a chair at one end and Karen was at the other. She’d dragged over a stool and her legs were propped on it. She’d changed since earlier. Instead of jeans she had on a black jersey dress, a bit like something Cassie might wear. On one of her legs there was a bruise that looked fresh.

‘So this what’s-his-name . . .’

‘Aaron.’

‘Whatevs. Have you done it yet?’

Cassie said nothing for a minute. ‘Not really. Nearly.’

‘But not?’

‘He wants to.’

‘And you?’

She shrugged. ‘I’m old enough. Everyone else has.’

‘That’s not a good reason.’

‘You can talk, you big old virgin.’

Jake drank some of the wine, making a face. ‘Well, I don’t want to just shag the first girl who’ll do it. I’m not an animal. I want someone I can talk to, so it won’t be awkward and shit and a mess. Someone older would be better. That Swedish woman Bill lives with . . .’

‘She’s like fifty! Gross! Anyway, they broke up.’

‘Shame. She was cool; I remember from the wedding they came to.’

Cassie picked at something on her ankle. An ingrown hair. ‘I should do it. Get it over with. It’s not really fair, we’ve been going out for months.’

Jake had looked so angry then. ‘Fuck’s sake, Cass. Do you never listen to anything your mum says? If you do it and you don’t want to it’s rape.’

‘It’s not rape! For God’s sake.’

‘It is, if you don’t want it. So make sure you want it. Anyway, I bet it would be rubbish.’

‘Because you know so much.’

‘I read stuff. Blogs. Books. I’m educating myself ready to meet a hot older student. Maybe a tutor, who knows.’

‘Gross,’ she said, but she’d made her voice cold and distant, like her mother when she was pissed off with Dad. Jake nudged her with his foot.