A night light made up of stars circled the old wall. Yellow stars moved around and, thinking the room was empty, I leaned in to watch, though the real ones which were visible through the opposite window were far more impressive. I thought I was alone watching them until I heard the slurping sound of kissing. And that was quickly followed by a scream.

There was lots of running, lots of shushing, lots of cans and bottles being knocked over. Lots of whispering. Then I felt a hand pull at my hair and grab me by the scruff of my neck and I was literally dragged all the way to the castle.

‘Hey, let go.’ I kicked. ‘Get your fucking hands off me.’

I swatted at the hands around my waist, which were definitely male hands as I was half lifted and half dragged. I thanked Rosaleen for her carbohydrate-rich diet then and the extra few pounds I’d put on since arriving, or else I’d have been easily thrown over his shoulder. Once inside and placed fully on the ground, he kept his arm round my waist and remained behind me. I turned round a few times to see an ugly-looking thing with fluff on his chin. Six people stared at me. Some were sitting on the stairs, others on crates on the floor. I felt like shouting at them to get out of my house.

‘She was watching us,’ the screamer said, arriving at the doorway, panting as though about to faint from the ordeal.

‘I wasn’t watching,’ I rolled my eyes. ‘That’s totally gross.’

‘She’s an American,’ one guy said.

‘I’m not American.’

‘You sound American,’ another one said.

‘Hey it’s Hannah Montana.’

Lots of laughs.

‘I’m from Dublin.’

‘No she’s not.’

‘Yes I am.’

‘You’re a long way from Dublin.’

‘I’m just here for the summer.’

‘On vacation,’ someone said, and they all laughed again.

A guy appeared at the doorway behind the squealer. He listened for a while as I tried to defend myself with a screechy embarrassing voice that I just couldn’t seem to control, and I wondered how on earth I had ended up being the uncool person in this room of hicksville inhabitants.

‘ Gary, let go of her,’ the latest arrival finally said.

Gary fluffy chin let go immediately. I’d identified the leader.

Once released, I gathered myself.

‘Can I take any more questions from the room? Perhaps you sir, in the fleece jacket and Doc Martens, would you like to ask a question to me about the days when Guns n’Roses were cool?’

Someone smirked, was elbowed, then cried out in pain. Gary fluffy chin, still behind me, dug me in the back, which really hurt.

‘I just heard you all from my room. I was in bed.’ I realised I sounded like the greatest annoyance on the planet, like a child who’d interrupted on her parents’ dinner party.

‘You live nearby?’

‘She’s lying.’

‘Well, where the hell do you think I live? I just flew over from LA for a midnight stroll?’

‘Are you staying in the gatehouse?’

‘The royal gatehouse,’ somebody else said and they all started laughing.

Okay, so it was far from being Buckingham Palace, but it was better than a lot of the other shithole barn houses I saw as we drove here. I looked from one face to the other, trying to decide my answer. How stupid would it be of me to tell them where I was staying?

‘Oh, no, I just live in a cowshed and sleep with pigs just like the rest of you,’ I snapped back. ‘I don’t know what your big problem is. It’s not as if he looks like he’s from around here, either.’

I was referring to the dark-skinned leader of the gang who was standing at the doorway just staring at me. Go for the leader in hostage situations, take them out. It wasn’t the cleverest idea really.

They all looked at each other with wide eyes and I could hear ‘racist’ being said over and over.

‘That’s not racist.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘He’s wearing Dsquared. Last time I checked hicksville, population nil, it didn’t stock Dsquared.’

Really, I wasn’t being very clever. I’ve seen Deliverance; I know what they can make you do and I’d already accused them of sleeping with pigs, which wasn’t a great beginning to what probably should have been an apology. I saw their leader’s teeth flash as he smiled briefly and then he covered his mouth with his hand as the rest of the gang went into overdrive, squaring up to me with pointed fingers and calling me a racist over and over again, even though I’d clearly explained my thoughts on why he stood out. The guy at the doorway called them all to stop, tried to reason with the squealer and a few drunken others, and then eventually grabbed me and pulled me outside and round the back of the castle, back to the scene of the crime; the window where I’d supposedly spied.

‘Is this where you pretend to kill me but really let me loose?’ I asked, a little nervously. A lot nervously. Okay, I thought he was going to beat me up.

He smiled. ‘You’re Tamara, aren’t you?’

My mouth dropped. ‘How did you…’ And then the penny dropped. ‘You’re Weseley.’

It was his turn to look surprised. ‘Arthur told you about me?’

‘Arthur? Eh, yeah, of course he did. He talks about you all the time.’

He looked confused. ‘He told me about you too.’

‘He did?’

I didn’t think Arthur would speak of me at all. I couldn’t even imagine what he’d say.

‘Smoke?’

I took one and he struck up a match. When he lit it I could see his face properly. His skin was a milky chocolate, not ebony, but beautifully dark. His eyes were big and brown, his eyelashes so long, I was momentarily jealous as in my previous life I spent a lot of my pocket money on false ones with glitter. His lips were big and juicy, his teeth perfectly straight and white, with a nice jaw, perfect cheekbones. He was so good-looking I was kind of jealous. He was taller than me, a head taller. The match burned down to his finger and he dropped it. I realised then he must have been looking at me too. He lit it again and I inhaled. It had been too long.

‘Thanks.’

‘No problem.’

‘What the hell are you doing, Wes? Oh, now you’re having a smoke with her? She’s related to that freak family, I hope you know.’ The squealer appeared round the corner, another girl in her wake, and wobbled her way unevenly to us, filling the air with the scent of a Body Shop gift basket.

‘Calm down, Kate,’ he said.

‘No, I will not fucking calm down…’ She went on a tirade of drunken nonsense and then started to hit him over and over again with her purse. Her friend pulled her away.

‘Fine.’ She shook her friend off, then grabbed her again before she fell, almost bringing her down with her. ‘I’m going home anyway.’

‘Ouch.’ I looked at him.

‘It didn’t hurt.’

‘A fake Louis Vuitton-are you joking? I felt the pain just looking at it.’

‘You’re a snob,’ he smiled.

‘You’re a bad boyfriend.’

‘She’s not my girlfriend.’

‘Whatever.’

‘You want a drink?’

I nodded way too enthusiastically. He laughed, then disappeared headfirst through the window, back into the castle. I followed him in.

‘Hey Weseley, you’re not giving Hannah Montana our cans, are you?’

Weseley ignored Gary and handed me a can.

‘What is this?’

‘Diamond White.’

‘Never heard of it.’

‘How can I explain this so that you’d understand?’ He thought hard. ‘Think of it as champagne, but made with apples.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘If you think I drink champagne then you don’t know me at all.’

‘Well, I don’t, do I? It’s cider. Americans call it hard cider.’

‘I’m not American.’

‘You don’t sound Irish.’

‘And you don’t look Irish. Maybe Irish as the world knows it has changed.’ I gasped sarcastically. ‘Oh my God, who should we tell?’

‘My mam has red hair and freckles.’

‘So she must be Swedish.’

He laughed, then pointed at a crate behind me and I sat down. He sat opposite me.