He goes in the shower and she walks about the flat, clearing away the glasses and empty wine bottle from last night. They didn’t talk about it then, they hardly said anything, just sat side by side on the sofa drinking, like some sad old married couple, the tension growing between them until she gave in and went to bed alone.

Back in the bedroom he’s out of the shower and ironing his clothes, his face is neutral apart from the occasional flex of his jaw, which she’s come to recognise as him being stressed.

‘What do you fancy eating?’ she asks, keen to distract him from his own thoughts.

‘Not bothered.’ He lifts his T-shirt to the light and checks for creases.

‘Let’s go up to the veggie café.’

He shrugs. He’s definitely not listening, as this suggestion usually triggers a whine from him.

‘You know I’ll need to leave here about noon to get up to Stratford. The tubes are off so it’s going to take me ages to get there. I don’t know why Emma didn’t check first. They do plan these things in advance.’

But then, Yvonne had only received the email invitation to Emma’s ‘leaving party’ last week. She couldn’t work out if it was because the party had been such a last-minute thing, or if inviting Yvonne was an afterthought. They had seen each other so infrequently over the last few months. Yvonne had tried to keep the friendship going, she loved Emma and still wanted to spend time with her, but it had finally gotten to the stage where Yvonne couldn’t stand it anymore, couldn’t stand herself.

She checks her reflection, deems the dress too fancy for a picnic and pulls it off.

‘Wouldn’t it make sense if I drove you?’ Lewis asks.

‘Yeah, I’m sure that would go down well, us two showing up arm in arm.’

‘I didn’t mean that. I could drop you nearby and then come in later, separately.’

She shakes her head. That seems too devious, the idea they would conspire to arrive at the same place separately. It was already bad enough that they would have to perform in front of people today, to act as if they were distant acquaintances, rather than what they really were; a couple.

‘I know Kiama wants to spend time with his friends,’ Lewis says. ‘I told him I’d be there at four.’

‘Okay.’ Yvonne pulls on jeans and a T-shirt. What does he expect her to say? It’s already so confusing, she’s not sure what to say or how to feel. At some point today she will have to hug Emma, her friend of eleven years, and say, ‘Goodbye.’ She will have to do this knowing that she’s still keeping this huge secret from her.