But this is awkward. She’s used to being on Emma’s side, to hearing about how ‘Dickhead’ was late to collect Kiama for the weekend or hadn’t paid enough money into her account that month. Yvonne learnt fast that the only way she could deal with hearing about Lewis all the time was to block him from her mind, to listen to Emma and picture someone other than the man in front of her now, the one who still makes her feel this way.

She looks down at the ground and tries to remember how she ever got over Lewis. There was a lot of crying, a lot of feeling sad and numb but there was also the great distraction of her career and holidays and meeting new people. Then there was Emma, her best friend, a new mum. And of course, there was Kiama.

‘You have a child with my best friend,’ she says. ‘That’s complicated, Lewis.’

He stares at her for a beat then nods. ‘Complicated? Yeah, I guess so.’ He pushes himself off the window and stands straight. ‘But at least let me drive you home.’

She thinks of Jaden, going home alone. And here she is, with another man, trying to mentally list all the reasons why she shouldn’t get into his car. ‘No,’ she says, ‘I don’t think so.’

Lewis laughs. ‘I don’t see the issue with me dropping you home.’

‘Because of what I just said.’

‘But I’m not hitting on you. I’m talking about giving you a lift home. Or would you prefer the vomit comet?’

She laughs at him, ‘I’ve not heard that in years.’

‘Let me drive you home.’

What’s the big deal with it? She would send Jaden a text message when she got in, apologising for wanting to stay out. She would go over to his place in the morning and take him out for brunch. She would finally agree to that holiday he had been pestering her about taking, just the two of them, somewhere fancy.

‘Come on,’ Lewis says, as he begins walking off ahead. ‘It’s cold.’

The walk to the car clears her head and as she sobers up she becomes more convinced that there’s nothing wrong with accepting a lift home from someone she used to know.

Once inside, with the heating on and the seat so soft, she finds herself relaxing.

‘Nice car,’ she says as he flicks through the radio stations. ‘Is it Mummy’s?’

‘You’ve got no manners.’

She laughs.

‘It’s mine. I had a good year at work so decided to treat myself. So, I know you’re south, but where?’

‘Clapham.’

‘Clapham?’ he screws his face up. ‘What made you do that?’

‘It’s up and coming. And I could get a two-bedroom place there.’

‘Whoa, you bought? What, a house?’

‘Half,’ she says, ‘for now.’

‘I’m looking to do the same myself.’