‘Actually, there’s something I don’t really trust about food grown in people’s gardens,’ Emma says. ‘With the grocery store you like know it’s gone through all the proper checks and stuff.’

‘Surely you were growing food when you lived in Africa?’

‘Actually, we just went to the supermarket like everyone else.’ She turns to Yvonne and rolls her eyes playfully.

‘And what about you, Snakebite? Did you also grow up in colonial splendour?’

‘No. South London.’ She finishes her drink and wonders how to get away from him.

Emma nudges her, ‘Your dad has an allotment too, right?’ she says, keen to bring Yvonne into the conversation.

‘Yeah.’

‘You know how to garden?’ Lewis asks.

‘Not really. I have three brothers, so it was more their thing.’

‘I’ve got three brothers as well,’ Lewis says.

Emma sighs, ‘You guys with your unusually large families.’ She wipes the corners of her mouth. ‘So, Sweetboy, aren’t you going to congratulate us?’

‘On what?’

Emma puts her hand in the middle of his chest and pushes him gently, ‘On finishing university.’

‘Oh, it’s done, is it? You’ve given back your library books and everything?’

They nod.

‘So what now?’ he asks Emma.

‘I told you, I’m going back to Kenya to see my parents for a bit.’

‘Yeah, but after your holiday? When reality sets in? And your parents want to see some pay-off for all that private education.’

Emma shrugs. ‘I don’t know.’

‘What happened to your idea to teach? You were all over that idea a week ago. If you’re serious you could ask my mum about it today.’

‘Oh, teaching was just a passing thought,’ she says. ‘Plus, I’ve been studying forever, I need a break.’

He shakes his head. ‘What about that volunteering thing you were going on about? Some women’s refuge or something?’

‘Oh yeah, that, but they make you commit to like four weeks in a row and I didn’t want to start then go away for the summer and let anyone down.’

Lewis raises his eyebrows at her, boredom creeping across his face. ‘There really is nothing you want to do?’

‘Why do you keep asking me about this?’

‘I know you don’t have to do anything, but there must be something you’re interested in.’

Emma has no shame in her complete lack of ambition, but it’s wearing on her, the way everyone keeps asking.

‘Lewis,’ his mum calls.

‘I’ll be back in a minute.’ He walks off.

‘Do I look alright?’ Emma whispers.

‘Stop drinking red. Your lips are going purple.’

‘Shit. I’m going to run to the loo. If he comes back, talk me up, alright.’