Crow and Henry are the first ones to leave, on a flight to Kampala. A few days later, Edie comes with me to see Jenny off to New York. As Jenny’s heading for the security queue at Heathrow, Edie gives her the most penetrating, accusatory stare I’ve ever seen. Jenny doesn’t seem to notice.

‘Have a great summer without me, guys,’ she says cheerfully. ‘See you at Christmas!’

‘Anyone would think she was glad to be going,’ Edie mutters.

‘But she is!’ I point out.

‘She’ll regret it,’ Edie says. ‘She’ll miss London. The museums. The shops. Home. Us.’

‘Don’t forget you’re going there yourself next year,’ I point out. ‘Harvard isn’t exactly down the road.’

‘Hmm.’ Edie gives me an odd look, as if she hadn’t thought of this. Honestly! The place is in Boston, up the coast from New York. She’s not stupid. Surely she’s pictured herself there a million times?

‘And why aren’t you going over to California, while I think of it? Or is Hot Phil coming here?’ I ask.

She shrugs. ‘Phil’s trying to be nice, I suppose. He said I’m welcome to go and visit him and take advantage of the sun and everything. But he’s not going to come to London and watch me work all summer. He says I seriously need a break.’

‘He’s right.’

She sighs. ‘I know. But I’ve got my summer job working at the library. And so much reading to do. It’s better if I just stay at home and work my way through it. And my parents are taking us camping for a week. That’ll be good.’

She makes it sound amazing. Not.

‘How about you?’ she asks. ‘Has your mum seriously stopped your allowance?’

‘Yeah,’ I admit. It’s the thing parents try just before they say, ‘I don’t know what else to do’, and throw their hands up and look at you as though you’re some sort of unsolvable Sudoku.

‘I can probably lend you some money,’ Edie adds doubtfully. It’s really sweet of her to offer, but I know she doesn’t have much to spare. And besides, I won’t need it anyway.

‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ I say. ‘I have a plan.’

‘Oooh!’ Edie says, brightening up. ‘I love it when you have a plan. What’s this one?’

‘It’s brilliant. I thought of it last week. It kills lots of birds with one stone. I get money. I get to do something I love. I show Mum how capable I am of sorting out my own career. And I find my perfect job in fashion.’

‘And?’ Edie asks.

‘And what?’

‘What’s the actual plan?’

‘Oh, right. I’ve got an internship at Miss Teen. I begged and pleaded. They’d given all the proper ones away ages ago, of course, but they squeezed me in. I already know lots of people there, and what they do, so they won’t have to spend too much time training me. And I work really hard. They know I do.’ I pause for breath.

‘And they’re paying you?’ Edie asks, surprised. Interns aren’t exactly showered with cash, as we know from friends who’ve practically had to pay to do their jobs.

‘A bit. Not much. Travel and lunch money, basically, but it’s better than nothing. Anyway, I’m really looking forward to it. I just wish . . .’

‘What?’

‘I just wish Jenny and Crow were around so we could all get together in the evenings and I could tell you how great it is.’

Edie smiles. ‘I’ll be around some of the time. You can tell me.’

I smile back. I don’t say that, much as I love her, telling a girl who wears MATCHING TWINSETS and BEIGE CULOTTES about my time at Miss Teen might be slightly pointless. I look at her now. She’s in slacks. There’s no other word for them. Actual slacks. And a brown jacket that has been instructed not to approach the body under any circumstances. Edie and fashion are distant acquaintances. Still, it’s sweet of her to try and take an interest.

I was expecting Mum to be appalled when I told her about the internship. After all, it’s me trying to pursue my ‘flying pig’ career in fashion. But instead, she seemed thrilled.

‘Well done, darling. That should keep you out of trouble. I’m sure you’ll learn loads.’

I nod wisely. Indeed I will. About how to help Crow run her label. Which is what we’re going to be doing next year, after we’ve done our exams. I say this bit in my head, though. Not out loud. Despite the job, I really need Mum to change her mind about my allowance if I’m going to have any fun this summer.

I’m talking a lot in my head at the moment. Mum and I don’t have too much to say to each other. After the whole ‘You’re not good enough,’ ‘I just don’t know what to do with you,’ ‘I’m stopping your allowance’ scenario, I think she’s said most of it already.