‘Yeah, but I didn’t know you’d be here, actually at the flat.’ His eyes move up to the balcony behind her. ‘Where is the Princess? Is she up there watching?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Should I come over tomorrow? Or did you want to go out?’

‘Do we really need to arrange this now?’ she asks, casting a quick glance behind.

‘Guess not. You heard anything from your brother? I keep thinking about your face when he saw me,’ Lewis smiles.

‘I spoke to him. He’s not going to say anything.’

‘See, all that worry about nothing. Makes you think, doesn’t it? That things are best out in the open.’

Yvonne says nothing, it’s too awkward. She opens the front car door, where Kiama sits engrossed in a magazine and a family sized packet of crisps. ‘Kiama, put on your seatbelt. See you soon, okay?’

‘Bye,’ he says, not looking up. She shuts the door and turns back to Lewis. Is this what it would be like? Would both of them come to collect Kiama on weekends? It’s a weird thought, one she doesn’t quite know what to do with.

‘Yvie?’ Lewis says. ‘Why are we making things difficult for ourselves? Just tell her.’

Yvonne bites her lip. ‘I was going to. Tonight.’ That was the plan, but now, she can’t imagine doing it. ‘Though, I don’t think I can, not after this, after seeing you here.’

‘You’re telling me you’re going to spend all night with her and not mention me?’

‘Get over yourself Lewis.’

He laughs, ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

She double-checks Kiama’s window is up, ‘I want to tell her, I really do. But then I keep thinking, it’s still early days for us.’

‘Early days? And what about the years before? You know how much time we’ve wasted?’

She thinks about all the other guys she’s dated over the years, about the feelings she’s had and the times she’s thought that she was in love. But this is different; her feelings for Lewis are so strong, so uncontrollable. ‘I’m going,’ she says, then pulls herself away from him. It’s the only way for now, until she figures out how to do this.

Inside the flat, Emma holds her gaze for a few seconds then smiles. ‘What happened? Did he say something to you?’

‘No,’ Yvonne smiles back.

‘You’ve probably not seen him since we were at uni. He’s the same arsehole though, isn’t he?’

Yvonne coughs, the confession suddenly stuck in her throat, the words failing to form.

‘Anyway, I’m nearly ready,’ Emma says breaking the moment. ‘We can go soon.’

When she leaves the room, Yvonne doubles over with the relief of being able to exhale.