‘Can’t we listen to something else?’ she asks.

He smiles and sings along. It’s almost endearing how bad he is. ‘You’ve got a horrible voice, Lewis.’

He pours the batter in the pan and laughs, ‘I can’t be good at everything.’

It’s become so typical of their Sundays, the long, lazy breakfast before he has to drive back to his mum’s house in Harrow. It would be so much easier if they lived closer to one another, but at least this way when he comes over he usually ends up staying for a day or two, sometimes even three. They don’t arrange it, it just happens. The same way they don’t speak about what they’re doing, how much they’re enjoying being with each other again and how different it feels this time.

The door buzzes from downstairs. ‘Ah, that must be my package,’ she claps and runs down, more excited than anyone should be to receive a set of crockery, but when she opens the door it’s not her order.

‘Claude?’

Her brother walks in, still in his work clothes, tools in hand.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘The kids are at karate and Mum is with Mel and the baby, so I’ve got two hours before I need to be home. You’re not going to make me take my shoes off, are you?’

‘Er, no, but…’

He makes his way up the stairs before she can stop him, let alone think of a reason why he can’t come in.

‘I didn’t know you were coming over,’ she says following him up.

‘I wasn’t, but like I say, I’ve got two hours. And—’ he stops when he sees Lewis. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi.’

‘I’m Claude. Yvonne’s brother,’ he says, looking back at her.

‘I’m Lewis. Yvonne’s—’ he too looks at her and grins in a way that makes her bite her lip, ‘friend.’

Lewis steps away from the hob to shake Claude’s hand. Yvonne catches her reflection in the window and her expression is somewhere between a wince and horror.

‘Pancakes?’ Claude says as he nods over to the darkening smoke.

‘Shit,’ Lewis runs over.

‘You really should have text me first,’ she says to her brother.

‘Don’t mind me, I’ll go and crack on with things.’ Claude heads to the bathroom.

‘Shit,’ Yvonne says.

Lewis pushes the kitchen window open wide and shrugs. ‘If I’m honest, I’m surprised this hasn’t happened sooner. Your family all live so close by.’

‘Yes, but they know not to drop by like this.’ She sinks her head into her hands. ‘Shit. Shit.’ How long will it take for word to spread around her whole family that a man, unknown to any of them, is at her flat on a Sunday morning? ‘This is bad,’ she whispers.

‘Why? Just tell him not to say anything.’