“Is Rosie not taking care of you, then?” He wagged a remonstrative finger. “You’d be getting breakfast in bed if I was there. Has she not done you a nice bacon butty?”

For a split second, Jem debated the merits of lying, coming clean, or feigning a broken connection. She wasn’t quick enough for Ferg, however.

“Jem, what did you do?” he said, his lovely Scots burr now more of a growl.

“Nothing.” She held the phone farther away, lessening the impact of his glare. “Everything’s fine.”

“She’s not there, is she?”

Jem shook her head, unable to answer.

“And you’re not fine at all, are you?”

“No,” she whispered.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“No.” She couldn’t. He might understand, but she wouldn’t be able to put it into words.

“Do you want me to come home?”

She managed a smile, grateful to have him on her side no matter what. “Thanks, but no. I might go and see my mum and dad later. I’ll be all right, really.”

“You will, will you?” He gulped from a mug of what looked like diluted tar. His eyes were heavy-lidded and bloodshot, and whenever he turned his head she swore she could see pigtails.

“How hung-over are you, Ferg?”

“Scale of one to ten?” He grimaced. “Twelve. The Wiganers were in last night, and they can down ale like you wouldn’t believe.”

“I can imagine.” A couple of the lads on her paramedic course had been from Wigan. Pies and pints had been the loves of their lives. “What time did you get to bed?”

He had the grace to look guilty. “Ask me if I’ve been to bed.”

“Fergus McClellan! You’re an absolute disgrace.”

He snorted into his brew. “You’re only jealous.”

“I am. You definitely had a better night than I did.” She blew him a kiss. “Thanks for phoning.”

“My pleasure. Want my advice?” He held the phone in both hands, keeping it steady and focused, and he didn’t wait for her to answer. “Sort this thing out with Rosie. Every time you mentioned her, your face lit up like a wee bairn on Christmas morning.”

She did her damnedest to ignore an analogy so perfect it broke her heart all over again. “I don’t think it’s sortable,” she said.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” he said, and the screen went blank.