Lissa, surprised, smiled to herself. Then she glanced at her phone—out of habit, more than thinking anyone would be in touch. She wasn’t missing Instagram and Facebook, not usually. But she would have liked to have posted the view. It was quite something.

There was nothing there, of course, except a little dot on her WhatsApp. She opened it. It was a picture of three white spherical things, hard to make out.

Meat buns, she read, 90-minute wait. Excellent!!!!

She put her phone back, smiling. Well. Someone was having a good date, she supposed.

CORMAC COULDN’T HELP it. He was distracted, and that wasn’t fair. Ironically, of course, it was Jake who had told him all along: don’t be distracted, stop just falling into things. Think about the person you’re with.

He looked up at Yazzie, who smiled back at him nervously, aware this wasn’t going very well. She’d started a long story about the worst wound she’d ever seen, which, on balance, she really wished she hadn’t, especially as she had to shout above the insane noise levels in the bar. They were crammed into a tiny corner space. At least, she thought, the food was amazing—and it truly was, Cormac had never tasted anything like it; every herb and flavor superbly delineated, tasting fresh and light—so that was something.

“This is amazing,” he said. Then found his thoughts, once again, straying north and wondering if the hot dog stall was there and if Lissa was enjoying herself. He resisted the urge to check his phone; this was awful. He was behaving like some kind of bounder.

“So, wounds, huh?” he found himself saying as Yazzie picked unhappily at the delicious food.

“Did you always want to be a nurse?” she asked him.

Cormac half smiled to himself. “Ach, not quite,” he said. “Everyone in my family joined the army, so I joined up too. Became a medic.”

“Ooh,” said Yazzie. “That’s interesting.”

Cormac shrugged. “A bit too interesting at times,” he said.

“Did you get shot at?”

Cormac blinked. He almost answered the question and then reined it back. But why . . . why? Why did he suddenly feel almost ready to tell someone . . . but then had held back? This was ridiculous.

It was the newness, he decided. Everything being new. He could see, for the first time, the benefits of the big city: shaking off who you were, where you were from, what you came with, the baggage. That you were free to start over, to ditch everything, to feel lighter. He nearly told Yazzie, but something stopped him. He shrugged. The people in the queue were doing exactly what they had done, stared ferociously at people who had already managed to sit and get fed, and he felt the weight of their hungry eyes on him.

“Nah, it was fine,” he said briefly. “Shall we head out?”