‘Yah, probably. You’ll find that all those boys in their pharaoh garb and wing suits are only in it for the cupcake.’

Petra laughed. ‘Do you often hang out with boys like that?’

Before Petra could respond, Freddie, who’d been edging closer, chipped in, ‘Sansa Stark, too.’

‘Excuse me?’ Petra said. The title of a top-shelf movie?

‘Sansa Stark is also from Leamington.’

‘Sansa Stark’s from Winterfell, Freddie,’ Suki said, and Freddie flushed at the intimate fact of his name on Suki’s lips. ‘And she’s a fictional character, love, and that means even you don’t stand a chance.’

‘You know what I mean. Sophie. Sophie Turner’s from Leamington. I just thought I’d suggest that for your list.’ He clearly didn’t mind admitting he’d been listening in to every detail of their conversation.

‘Already got that. Filed under moderate-to-rad provincial claims to fame.’ Petra knew that, despite her nonchalance, Suki would geek out if Sophie Turner ever came drifting into her shop. ‘Have you got Ben Foster?’ Suki asked.

‘Ben who?’

‘The goalkeeper and one-time Nicest Man in the Premier League, love?’

‘Nah,’ said Freddie. ‘I don’t watch rugby.’

Suki shrugged and Petra gaped at her. ‘Sometimes, Sook, you honestly surprise me.’

‘What?’

Petra leaned back carefully. ‘Well, that’s quite a few celebs. The birthplace of lawn tennis, the jet engine, the Jaguar XT, and Crowley. It’s an economic and cultural nexus after all.’

Suki pursed her lips and gazed out of the window at the shopfronts across the road. But for the rough sleepers in their doorways, both shops were vacant now. One of them used to be an express language school from back in England’s more internationalist days, and next to it another interior design shop, more focused than Needful Things but not as comfortably backed. ‘So, anyway, this husband of yours – cos if you don’t marry him, I’m going to – there’re still, what? Three more shows left?’

‘Two.’

‘Two more shows. That’s alright. Nip-in marriage, pre-nup, quickie divorce after the finale. Unless his streak of mysterious luck continues…’ Freddie swapped magazines, Habitat for Living Fossils, pretending not to drop eaves.

‘Hey, hey. Back off. Those tickets are mine.’

‘This chap. He did get tickets to all three, didn’t he?’

‘Yep.’

‘And are you sure he’s planning to take you to the next one?’

Petra flashed back on what she and Vincent had done on Friday night after Intimacy, and Saturday night, and Sunday morning. It was cool of him to ask her in the first place, but it had gone well – very well. Whether it was truly love and lust at first sight as she believed when he fell at her feet, or whether it was the manipulation of the immersion itself, they’d ended up holed up in her flat all weekend, only getting dressed to answer the door for the delivery guy. She couldn’t prevent the smarmy, horny little grin that rose on her face. ‘I presume so.’

‘Have I mentioned that I’m jealous?’