Things, as Luke Walker’s mum is fond of saying, are getting out of hand.

The voices of his friends jar his ears as they stumble through some song by Lily Allen, clapping out of time urging the girl on. Tom whoops like a small child at  Christmas, saliva dribbling down his chin. Charlie digs Luke in the ribs and shouts something in his ear but the words are lost in a fit of giggles. The girl is in the middle of their ramshackle circle, her laughter almost hysterical. She says something none of them can understand and spins round and round so that her skirt flares up and the boys can see her knickers. Tom reaches out to touch her. ‘Yeah, baby,’ he brays but the momentum makes him lose his balance. He gropes the ground and swears.

Luke feels sick. He wants to go home. He would go home but he’s boarding tonight and if the House Master catches him in this state he’ll be in detention for a month.

And anyway the field is spinning and he doesn’t think he can stand.

‘You like?’ asks the girl.

Tom and Charlie applaud but Luke can’t even nod his head. He doesn’t like, not at all.

That night had started like any other. With prep finished and Mr Philips dealing with one of the new boys, homesick and in tears, Luke and his friends sneaked out of school to mooch around the village. They pledged how different their lives could be when they could drive. Charlie’s the eldest and is getting lessons for his seventeenth but that’s not for over two months. Luke should be next but every time he mentions it his parents exchange the look and talk about how many young men die in road accidents. As the youngest of the group Tom will probably still be the first to pass his test. His Dad already lets him drive an old jeep across their land.

They wandered down to the off-licence. Luke doesn’t know why they bothered because Mrs Singh knows they’re all underage. Tom called her a ‘fucking paki’ and knocked over a rack of crisps. Luke hates it when Tom does stuff like that. They finally dragged him out with Mrs Singh threatening to call the police and there was the girl leaning against the post office window opposite.

She was one of that lot from the hostel. You could tell by the way she dressed, the way she wore her hair. And she stood like they all do, hunched in on themselves as if they trying to disappear. She was smoking what smelled like a spliff.

‘Let’s have some of that,’ Tom shouted.

She looked startled at being spoken to and threw what was left of her roll up into the gutter. She was about to move on when Tom dashed across the street and caught her arm.

‘Do you want to earn some money?’ he asked. ‘Money,’ he repeated and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together as if she were deaf or an imbecile. So they paid her five quid to get them some bottles of cider and headed to the park. It was built for the local kids but they’re all at home on their Nintendos. Only the boarders use it when they manage to slip out. It’s cold and deserted but at least they can get pissed in peace. Luke doesn’t know why the girl came with them. Maybe she liked the look of Charlie who’s tall and dark, and all the girls fancy him. Or maybe Tom talked her into it. He’s ginger and has a big gap in his front teeth but he has a way of getting people to do what he wants. Leadership qualities his Mum calls it. Either way she came and sat on the swings. She shared their booze and they shared her grass. She said her name was Anna and Luke remembers thinking how pretty she was.

Now things are going pear shaped.

Tom has managed to pull Anna onto the ground. She’s still laughing but trying to push him away.

‘No, no no,’ she says.

Tom mimics her accent. ‘Yes, yes, yes.’

She tries to push him away but she’s not very strong and Tom’s the captain of the first elevens. Luke notices how tiny she is and Tom easily holds the sticks of her arms above her head. Her sweater has ridden up and Luke can see her ribs protruding through her skin.

‘Come on, Tom. Leave her alone,’ says Luke.

‘Fuck off,’ says Tom, his breath coming in hard pants. His forehead is greasy with sweat and the unmistakable bulge of his cock pushes against Tom’s trouser leg.

Luke feels the acid burn of bile in his throat and tries not to retch.

The girl struggles to free herself.

‘Give me a hand, Charlie,’ says Tom.

Charlie seems unsure and hovers above them.

‘Hold her arms,’ Tom grunts. When Charlie still doesn’t move Tom snarls at him.

‘Hold her fucking arms, you queer.’

Charlie steals a look in Luke’s direction. He’s terrified of what’s about to happen but more terrified of defying Tom. Luke wills him to walk away, make a joke out of the whole thing. He doesn’t. He kneels above Anna’s head and presses firmly on her wrists.

Luke realises now that she is screaming. Tom clamps one hand over her mouth and uses the other to pull at his flies. Luke tries to get to his feet but falls sideways and ends up flapping like a fish in a net.

Tom laughs. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn Lukey boy.’

He thrust his hips forward and Anna’s eyes shoot open. Luke feels his own sting with tears and wishes for tomorrow morning.