I’ll admit I did have my doubts about writing a message to you using kidnapper-style lettering. I wasn’t insane. But there it was. Your complete name. Telling me it was what I should do. Approval.

The card burned a hole in both my bag and mind for the remainder of the weekend, which was mainly spent watching Dale killing zombies and tidying my bedsit after him shaming me. ‘Jesus, Constance. You’re not a teenager anymore, you know.’ Shoot, shoot, shoot.

On the Monday I was aware of its existence the whole day. Fearful it would somehow fall out onto the floor. ‘Who’s Samuel?’ I imagined Alison would say. Then her eyes would widen, her hand block her mouth. But that didn’t happen. It remained tucked away. My exquisite secret.

When I followed you after work, aside from the harsh wind, all was soothing. Your earphones were in, your collar up, hair billowing, and I was full of joyous anticipation. Like a child about to give their first gift.

Catching up with Edward about the events of our respective weekends, I was delighted he seemed so well. Reminiscent of the Edward I’d met that first day, feisty and diamond-eyed.

Despite the happiness this brought, as I sank into what we now referred to as ‘my chair’, I couldn’t concentrate on his words. I did try to appear interested, and avoid looking at you, but I was too aware of you wandering around your flat.

‘I watched a documentary on Saturday, and, Constance, did you know that NASA have discovered stars that are cool enough to touch?’

‘No . . . no, I didn’t know that.’ I supped on my tea, myself light years away. Which in hindsight was a shame. I really am interested in touchable stars.

I waited with him as he chomped down on his bacon sandwich. ‘Now, Edward, did you know . . . that pigs are the closest species genetically to dogs? Except they’re more intelligent.’

‘Is that so? Well, I’ve eaten quite a few dogs as well and I can tell you they are nowhere near as delicious.’ He noted my look of horror and laughed. ‘Darling girl . . . I didn’t realize: it was in Vietnam.’

Unable to deal with Edward’s canine-eating confession, I made my excuses to leave early. Outside, I placed my hand in my bag and held on to the card. Looking up, I could see your light was still on, but I was anxiously aware that you could head downstairs at any moment. Regardless of the risk, I was about to cross over when Tippi Hedren came down the road with her panting Labrador. As she climbed the steps with her key in hand, I lost my nerve and headed off, weighted with disappointment and with the perilous item still in my possession.