‘I mean it,’ I warn.

‘Okay then.’ He pauses. ‘I was just going to say that she looked happy. Which, all things considered, is nice.’

My leg twitches. ‘Yeah, well…’

‘She’s entitled to a life,’ he says and a switch flicks. The switch that means I am now definitely up for a fight.

‘What? Have you two spoken or something? Because that’s the sort of shit she’s been coming out with,’ I hiss. ‘Whose side are you on?’

‘I am on your side, mate. I always have been, apart from when you’re acting like a dick – then it’s a bit harder. And no, we haven’t spoken. But maybe if we had this mood of yours might make more sense. Jesus, mate, stand down!’

‘There’s nothing to make sense of. I’m fine.’

‘Clearly.’

I reach down to hold my leg still, and my foot starts twitching instead. ‘It’s… nothing.’

‘So you say.’

I push him out of the way to throw a coin in the machine, tapping the top as it spins and I wait. There’s a celebratory toot on the machine and several coins fall into the bottom. Paul looks at me before scooping up my winnings. ‘You leaving the van here?’ he asks. I nod and he heads off to buy us another round.

Five pints and two chasers later, Paul staggers off, patting my back and muttering something about tomorrow being better or another day, I’m not sure – he was slurring, I wasn’t listening. I stare into a void for a minute before Michelle shouts time and I push myself up, out of my chair. I hover by the bar, watching as she clears glasses off the side and into the dishwasher. This was how it started the other night, except she was on this side of the bar, with me. The last of her friends had left. She was circling whisky around a tumbler. I nudged her, gave her a big hug. She pulled up a stool for me to stay and talk. She told me how she felt bad because she’d run out of ways to help him. That she’d been thinking about their future, before it all happened, about if they even had one. She got upset. I told her she shouldn’t feel bad. It wasn’t her fault. That you can never save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. I basically repeated Mum’s line, even though I don’t believe it. I probably wanted something to happen.

Michelle looks around to check what needs doing next and our eyes meet. I grit my teeth to fight back each and every emotion. I’m saved when she turns her back again and walks away. I stare after her. I wonder when it was I fell in love? I wonder how long it will be before I get over it. Over her. Over all of this.

Through the pub window I see the kebab shop, which makes my belly rumble. I sway out of the pub and over the road. Losing my balance on the step, I fall into the counter. ‘Mixed with garlic sauce,’ I slur, throwing a crumpled tenner from my back pocket out for payment before scrolling through my phone whilst I wait. Someone has tagged Michelle in a photo from some house party years ago. She’s laughing, smiling, she’s happy. She doesn’t deserve my attitude and yet I have no choice but to give it to her in spades. She’s out of bounds. And she needs to stay that way. I growl into the counter top, shoving my phone into my back pocket.