‘Where have you been?’

Charlie was waiting for me when I got home, curled up on the sofa, the TV on with the volume muted. She sounded like she was trying hard to keep her voice even.

I was drunk, hardly able to walk in a straight line, especially with my sore leg. All I wanted to do was go to bed and not think or talk about anything. So my voice came out harsher than I intended. ‘I was with my sister. Didn’t you get my text?’

‘No. I’ve been trying to call you all evening. I was worried sick.’

I examined my phone. The text I’d sent Charlie had an exclamation mark beside it, meaning it hadn’t sent.

‘Twenty-three missed calls?’ I said. ‘That’s a bit fucking excessive, isn’t it? I’m going to bed.’

She stared at me with wide eyes, as silent as the TV.

A while later, I felt her crawl into bed beside me, then put her arm around me, nestling against my naked back. She stroked my chest, moved her hand down to my belly, but when I didn’t respond she gave up and soon the pattern of her breathing changed.

Even though I was drunk and exhausted, I couldn’t sleep, was unable to get the conversation with Tilly, Rachel and Henry out of my head. I had decided, perhaps because it was what I wanted to believe, that Tilly was right. To blame Charlie for all the weird stuff that had happened lately was like embracing a crazy conspiracy theory. Everything had a logical explanation. Charlie hadn’t been anywhere near me when I’d slipped down the steps. Sasha’s problems were almost certainly down to her affair with Lance. Kristi had either been targeted by a random nutter or attacked by a spurned boyfriend. None of it could be connected.

I felt terrible. I had been horrible to Charlie when I’d got home. She didn’t deserve it. I wriggled around, put my arms round her and kissed her. She stirred and I whispered that I loved her. Her lips twitched into a smile and pretty soon I fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke early and made Charlie breakfast, taking it to her in bed. Scrambled eggs on toast, coffee, a note telling her how much I loved her.

‘What’s all this for?’ she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

‘I was a dickhead last night. This is my attempt at saying sorry.’

‘It’s OK. But you should have let me know where you were.’

‘I know. I didn’t realise my text didn’t send.’

‘All right. But I was worried. And I wanted to see you. You know I’m going away on my course today?’

I frowned. The course was in Newcastle and I wouldn’t see her for four days. But when she got back, she’d be moving in.