I shake my head. I’d completely forgotten about that night. The minute I met Daphne, it was like all these moments with Alice were just erased from my brain. But she’s right: there was a connection between us. I told her stuff that night that I’ve only ever gone on to tell Daphne.

I thought about kissing Alice so many times during that first term. What would have happened if I’d got up the nerve to do it? What would my life look like now?

She studies me closely for a second, and reaches into her bag for her cigarettes. ‘I don’t know,’ she says, as she lights one. ‘I’m not sure you should really care what your parents think about your life anyway. I mean: what do they know? I feel like mine have always wanted me to be someone I’m not.’

‘How d’you mean?’

She exhales a plume of smoke as she considers this. ‘Well, my dad’s OK. He’s a management consultant, so: boring. But my mum’s an artist. My sister’s a graphic designer. And they’ve always been like this little clique, the two of them. I think they were disappointed I wasn’t more … arty, like them. Maybe that’s what doing all those plays at uni was about. I was trying to be someone I wasn’t.’ She takes another drag. ‘I don’t know. I sometimes feel like they look down on me for wanting a proper career, a decent salary. I mean, I was so chuffed to get this job out here – it was a really big deal for me, this promotion. But my mum and dad don’t get what I do, so it was like they barely even noticed. My sister had just had a baby, and that sort of stole the limelight, somehow.’ She shakes her head. ‘Sorry. I’m the one sounding stupid now.’

‘No. Not at all. I get it.’

She looks up at me and laughs. ‘We both sound stupid, and we both get it.’

I grin. ‘We’re a perfect match.’

I’m not sure where that comment came from, and there’s a moment where it hangs awkwardly in the air between us. But then we catch each other’s eye and start laughing. I’m not even sure what we’re laughing about.

It all feels so good. So easy.

Is this why I’ve come back, then: to remember all this? Is Alice supposed to be my future? Should we have been together all along?

I watch as a new batch of passengers clamber onto the merry-go-round, and then I ask: ‘You don’t want any of that stuff, then? Marriage? Kids?’