‘I think maybe he was disappointed, because he went out there convinced he would figure out what to do with it. But it only made him more confused, seeing all that poverty, all those needs. That orphanage you went to. It really affected him.’

‘I know.’

‘And was it definitely the same place?’ he asks. ‘The one Emma volunteered at?’

‘Yes. Crazy, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah,’ Lewis takes a breath and sighs. ‘It was always kind of in the back of my mind that he’d want to go back there one day, to Kenya. I’m glad he got it out of his system. I think it helped him.’ He raises his mug then shakes his head, disappointed. ‘I really wish I ordered a real drink.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

‘Because you’re not drinking.’

‘So?’

‘So, I’m following your lead.’

They both make moves to drink their coffees, but they’re too hot. Neither of them knows what to say next.

‘Kiama’s teetotal,’ he says.

She smiles. ‘Since when?’

‘Since you got him paralytic on whisky.’

She puts her mug down. ‘That’s not what happened.’

One side of his mouth goes up, he’s teasing her. ‘Last month vegan, this month teetotal.’

‘He definitely wasn’t a vegan in Kenya. He was eating monkey burgers and all sorts.’

Lewis laughs. ‘You know what these Gen Z kids are like. They don’t stick to anything. What? Why is that funny?’

‘Because you sound old.’

‘I am old.’ He leans back in the chair, and a small smile crosses his face, ‘I’m forty-five next year.’

‘Really? Is that all?’

He turns his head and laughs. ‘I almost forgot what you’re like.’

‘It’s been a while.’

He looks outside at the snow, at a group of young girls in hijabs as they pose and take selfies with all their shopping bags. ‘And why have they got to take photos of everything all the time?’ Lewis says.

‘I can’t believe you’ve turned into a grumpy old man.’

‘This is what sitting in a pub drinking coffee does to me.’

Yvonne stares at him, and is terrified by the idea that she could fall so easily in love with him again, for what would be the third time.

‘Emma was always taking photos. She loved those single-use cameras you’d get from the chemist. But she lost so many of them before getting them developed. I was grateful at the time, because it was mostly pictures of us drunk. But now, I really wish I had all those photos.’ She’s rambling, desperate to keep talking, to keep her mind on something other than the old feelings which are resurfacing.

Lewis leans forwards. ‘You miss her, don’t you?’

He’s never asked this before. No one has. ‘So much,’ she says. ‘Especially now, since coming back from Kenya. She’s on my mind a lot.’