‘So, it’s like that? No small talk?’

‘I haven’t heard from you in a decade.’ Her voice shakes as she slips her feet into the unlaced running shoes under her desk.

‘Time flies, eh?’ He sighs and she imagines the feel of his breath on her neck. The warmth of it.

‘Why are you calling me?’ But ever since her meeting with Kiama she has thought of nothing other than this inevitable conversation with Lewis, his slow approach as he rises back into her life.

‘You know why. But I want to talk face to face. You’re still based in London, right? I could get the train in—’

‘No. You can’t do that. What do you want?’

‘To talk about Kiama. I know you met up. What did you speak about?’

‘What do you think we spoke about?’

‘What did he say? Did he ask you questions?’

She laughs, ‘I don’t need to report back to you.’

‘This is serious. You can’t start going down memory lane with him, there’s lots of stuff he doesn’t know.’

Stuff, Lewis makes it sound so casual, so throwaway. Maybe it was, to him.

‘Is there something in particular you’re worried about?’ The insoles of her trainers feel damp from this morning’s run to work in the rain, but she accepts the discomfort, a distraction, as she waits for his answer.

‘Did he tell you my mum recently passed away?’

‘Yes, and I’m sorry, Lewis.’ She feels herself soften. ‘I really am sorry.’

‘They were close. Since she passed, he’s been a bit of a mess. Doesn’t know what he wants. He’s all over the place. Job to job. Girl to girl.’

She laughs bitterly, ‘That sounds familiar.’

‘No, he’s nothing like me. When I was young and being wild it was just that, being young and wild. But Kiama, he’s different.’

‘He’s only eighteen. You were still wild at thirty.’

‘And I could afford to be. He can’t. Not with everything he’s been through. He’s not that sort of kid.’

‘He seems fine.’

‘You don’t know him.’

It hurts because it’s true, she doesn’t know Kiama. She’s not the one who has been there for him through these years; she’s not had the privilege of watching him grow up.

‘Why did he want to see you again?’

‘I don’t know.’ And it’s half true; she’s still confused about why he thought to call her after all this time.

‘You must know. He won’t tell me. But he must have said something to you.’