The rest of the night was a sweaty whirl of dancing, but I was haunted by the memory of dark eyes and cold fingers, a patient touch and a deep, deep kiss. Melinda was a sweet, persistent ghost on my skin…and under my skin.

At the end of the night, when Jo rang the last call bell and the lights went on, my dark-haired dance partner kissed me on the corner of my lips in farewell, sending me off with the bleary smile. All the Harlow students headed out of the bar and back in the ...