The Guesthouse: Free Sampler. Abbie Frost

you’re probably still in shock. That’s why you’re behaving like this.’

      Hannah turned back to the garden and took a few cautious sips of her coffee. She felt her stomach begin to churn and tipped her mug out into the sink. Watched the brown liquid swill down the drain, then moved towards the door. ‘I’d better dry my hair.’

      ‘I’ll make some food,’ Ruby called after her. Hannah wanted to say she couldn’t eat anything, wanted to look her in the eye and tell her how she really felt: how guilt was eating away at her insides, making her drink more and more. How she wished she could have kept the flat that she and Ben had shared. How she still cried herself to sleep thinking about him.

      Instead she went slowly upstairs, feeling a hundred years old. Ruby was right: she couldn’t face the thought of a new job. She’d lost the last one because she’d been arriving later and later, hungover most of the time: making mistakes. And because she didn’t care enough to try. Didn’t care about anything.

      The next day, Hannah tried ringing Lori four times and left messages, but there was no response. By evening, she felt abandoned, like she was back in the playground at school and all the popular girls were whispering about her. But Lori wasn’t like everyone else, she was always there. Hannah locked her bedroom door and sat on the bed, her hand shaking as she held the phone, dialled the number she knew by heart, listened to the ringing until it went to voicemail.

      ‘Lori … it’s me again. Listen, I’m sorry. I’m going to fix this … I just need some time to get my head together.’ She swallowed. ‘You’re my best friend.’

      The only one she had left. Everyone else hated her almost as much as she hated herself. She ended the call and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

      Her phone vibrated in her hand and for one second she thought it was Lori, calling her back to say sorry and to tell her it was all going to be all right. Or maybe it was another hate-filled message from one of Ben’s friends. But she had turned off notifications for Facebook, Instagram and Twitter, so it couldn’t be that. She unlocked her screen and found the tiny red notification next to the image of a house on her screen, an app she hardly ever used: Cloud BNB.