Bethany’s silence speaks a thousand sorrowful words. I keep talking. “I mean, we’re obviously on the same page regarding the fact that we made a silly move last night. We’re probably going to totally avoid mentioning it ever again and eventually we’ll go back to normal and be friends. It’s good that we’ll do it like that. Less chance of us hating each other.”

My voice trails off. Bethany tilts her head as she observes me, looking as though she’s composing a eulogy for my sanity.

I clap. “Let’s get to work,” I say loudly and grab the phone from her, slipping it into my pocket. “I won’t check it again,” I say robustly.

She nods, both of us knowing that I will be checking my phone every five minutes like an overgrown schoolboy.

* * *

I do check it again. I check it so many times that Bethany finally removes it from my hand during our afternoon break.

“Wait,” I say crossly as she pops it in her pocket. “I need that.”

“What for? As an accessory for the outfit of sad sack you appear to be wearing today?”

“I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

She shakes her head as she gets up to switch on the kettle. “Has he contacted you?” she asks, turning back to me.

I twirl a piece of my hair around one finger. “No,” I say softly. “I’ve fucked up this time big style, Bethany.”

She steps closer and strokes her hand over my hair. “Yes, you have,” she says simply. I look up in protest, and she raises one eyebrow. “You’ve fucked up massively. It’s not okay to leave a one-night stand without saying goodbye, let alone your best friend of twenty years.”

I scrub my hand down my face. “I know,” I say, my voice muffled. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It was such a shitty thing to do.”

“I think possibly the problem might be that you’re in some strange sort of no-man’s-land in this relationship. It’s a huge change.”

“Massive.” I take the tea she hands me. “I’m not sure I was thinking straight this morning.”

“After seeing the two of you on the dance floor last night, I’d say there was nothing straight about your thinking.”

“What should I do, Bethany?”

“Have you messaged him?”

“About thirty times,” I admit. “I deleted all of them apart from one.”

“And what did that say?”

“We need to talk.”

“Well, I’m glad you kept the wordy one.”

I snort. “Stop taking the piss and tell me how to make this right.”

“Well, that depends on what you want, Charlie.” She smiles kindly. “Do you want to go back to the norm and just be friends, or do you want more?”