She shook her head, trying to dislodge the image of Joe, on the few occasions they had slept together, his pale face next to hers on the pillow, his clothes neatly folded on the chair by the bed, his shoes lined up in parallel with his socks tucked inside, the kiss on the top of her head as he crept away early in the morning. Like an old married couple, following a routine, going through the motions. Her inheriting her own place, and him moving out of his dad’s, should have given them all the chances they needed to be alone together, to make the most of each other, but it hadn’t happened. Nothing had changed. There had always been something hesitant about Joe, always something missing, but she had been too naïve, too trusting, too needy, to work out what it was. But she knew now. Looking back, and with this newly permanent distance stretching out between them, she knew what had been missing. It was passion. Raw, uncontrollable passion. The sort she had read about in novels, seen in films, had glimpsed very briefly on those sexy hotel weekends away with Luke. But she hadn’t loved Luke. He had taken possession of her body for a while and brought it to life but hadn’t quite reached her heart. And passion didn’t really work without love. Perhaps the perfect man, if he existed somewhere, would give her both …

‘Come on, dreamy. Let’s go and find something to eat, shall we?’

‘What? Oh, yes, let’s.’ She hooked her arm through his as he led her off down the street. ‘Not fish and chips though. I fancy something more … exotic.’

‘Pizza?’

‘Yes please. That sounds perfect.’

‘I’ve been thinking about your garden.’

‘What garden?’ Aaron swallowed the last strip of stuffed crust and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. ‘Oh, you mean that scrappy lump of old grass out the back of the flats. What about it?’

‘Haven’t you ever wanted to do something with it? Smarten it up a bit? We’re coming into spring now, warmer weather, sunny afternoons. It’s somewhere you could sit, read, get some air, a tan …’

‘Never really thought about it. I live a fairly nocturnal life, remember? I’m asleep most of the time the sun’s up.’

‘You make yourself sound like some kind of vampire! How about the other residents? Your mum?’

‘Dunno. I suppose they might make use of it, if it was there, all prettified, but sorting it out looks like hard work to me. I’m not sure any of them would be up for that.’

‘Wouldn’t your mum like it though? It would be a great Mother’s Day gift.’

‘What? Me, cutting the grass for her? By tomorrow? Not quite the same as a nice bunch of roses and a box of Milk Tray, is it?’

‘Start a garden for her this Mother’s Day and you could be picking her flowers from it by the next one!’