I press seven, and five for me. The doors close, leaving us alone in the confined space together. My chest feels constricted as I breathe him in. I’m not sure this has really worked. I don’t feel better for seeing him – if anything I feel worse. There’s so much we still haven’t covered. But I’m not sure it’s appropriate to say any more.

‘Come and say goodbye before you go home?’ I blurt as the doors open to let me out on level five.

‘Okay,’ he replies.

I step out onto the landing and turn around, feeling suddenly panicky.

‘See you,’ I say.

‘Bye,’ he replies with a small, sad smile. His eyes drop just as the lift doors close.

He never does come to say goodbye.

Two months later, Lachie and I head to Perth for Christmas. Lachie has a big family – two loving, happily married parents, four doting older sisters who each have families of their own, plus multiple cousins and aunts and uncles, most of whom still live in the suburbs surrounding the city. So, when I say big, what I really mean is enormous.

Lachie’s parents live in a four-bedroom house, but, on the night before and of Christmas, three of his sisters and their families choose to cram into it rather than go back to their own homes, so Lachie and I take to the back yard in a tent – not just to give them all more space, but to give us some, too. Lachie’s nieces and nephews will still hunt him out in the morning – they absolutely adore him. And me. I’m very good at choosing Christmas and birthday presents, as it turns out.

I love being around Lachie’s family. It’s so completely different from mine. My dad passed away a couple of years ago, so it’s only Mum and me now, but she and her new husband, David, have belatedly discovered a love for travelling. This year they’re going on a cruise that will end up in Sydney Harbour to watch the fireworks on New Year’s Eve. We’ll see them on New Year’s Day, so I’m blissfully free of the usual guilt that comes when trying to decide who to spend Christmas with.

Right now, it’s late on Christmas Eve and I’m squeezed in beside Lachie on the sofa, holding the newest addition to his family: ten-week-old Ella. Lachie’s parents have gone up to bed, but his sisters and their partners remain. Bea is Lachie’s eldest sister at thirty-seven, Maggie is slightly older than me at thirty-five, Tina is thirty-three, and Lydia – Ella’s mother – is thirty. She’s the only sister not staying over tonight and the one who is closest to Lachie both in age and spirit. She’s been to visit us in Sydney a few times.

Last year Lydia finally tied the knot with her long-term boyfriend Mike, but, despite their recent sleepless nights, they seem reluctant to go home to bed.