‘Yeah, I think so. It’s a good idea if I go home now.’ She nods to convince herself that it’s the very best idea. ‘It’s late.’

‘It is.’ He nods back. ‘I could drive you. My car’s parked up on Goodge Street.’

‘You drove into central London?’

‘You know I don’t like the tube.’

‘That’s ridiculous. Also, I’m not getting in a car with you.’

‘Why not? I’ve been on the Pepsi all night.’

‘I didn’t mean that.’ So what did she mean? That she wouldn’t trust herself alone with him?

‘At least let me walk you to the tube station? You’re still in south London?’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Kiama,’ he smiles. ‘That boy loves to gossip, especially if you ask him the right questions.’

It’s a weird thing to say. It implies that he’s stayed interested in her all these years, but of course not, it’s just Lewis rolling out his usual chat.

They walk on together and it’s weird, too weird.

‘I wish I knew what to say to you,’ he says quietly, ‘I never got a chance to say sorry. How you got caught up in the middle of everything, that whole situation.’

‘Yeah, I know, Lewis. I wish none of it ever happened, but it did, so…’

He stops walking. ‘No, I don’t regret what happened with Emma.’

It shouldn’t hurt her to hear him say it, but it does.

‘Not for a second, because without her I wouldn’t have Kiama.’

‘Oh, of course. I didn’t mean that. I meant more—’

‘I wish we could have met each other at a different time. Don’t you ever think about that?’

‘No,’ she lies. She thinks back to when she first met him at the club and how she waited for his call for weeks, only for him to get interested again when he was with someone else. He was a player then and is probably the same now.

‘Would you give me your number if I asked you for it now?’

It’s still a joke to him, it makes her furious. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’ he laughs.

‘Because I’m an adult and I have adult relationships. I’m not interested in playing games, waiting around for some guy to call me.’

‘That was years ago.’

‘So, what’s changed? You seem like the exact same Lewis to me, flirting and trying to charm me.’

‘Yvie, I’m nearly thirty-three. I’ve sorted myself out.’