You paused. Then moved again as if you’d been affected by a PlayStation glitch. ‘Yeah . . . yeah . . . It was good. It was pretty quiet in there, so it was nice just having a beer, catching up, you know.’

And there it was. The additional detail for legitimacy. You weren’t even skilled at it.

You turned to me with the dish. I smiled.

As you wiped my hand, it carried me back to that day. And it was too much. Too painful.

‘I must get on. Linda will go mad.’

‘Well, I just need to put a fresh bandage on and then you’re free.’

Free. It was as if you were gloating.

I was about to snatch my arm away when you said, ‘I’m . . . I’m so sorry about yesterday, Constance.’

I tried not to appear startled but couldn’t stop myself from exhaling a long breath. ‘Oh God, Samuel. So am I.’

Your lips were unnecessarily close as you pressed the gauze against my broken skin. I was certain you wanted to kiss me, though knew you wouldn’t. Considering why the whole issue started in the first place. You wound the bandage and my hand already felt better, secure.

‘You’re such a special person, you know, Constance. You understand me . . . and that’s so important.’

You’re such a worrypot, Mum would say. And she was right. I’d done it again. Fretted unduly. So inexperienced that I couldn’t even identify a lovers’ tiff.

‘So are you. Special to me, I mean.’

‘Thank you, Constance . . . That means a lot. It really does.’ You smiled and your eyes moistened. The bandage completed its final cycle and you tore off tape to secure the end. ‘And I know you’re going to meet someone great. I just know you are . . . Sorry, did I hurt you then?’ I’d pulled my arm away. Stood. ‘Is the bandage too tight?’

‘It . . . it stung a bit, that’s all. I’d better get on with my work. Thank you.’

‘Sure, sure . . . but before you go . . . I’m so sorry, but let me give you this.’ You delved into your pocket and brought out a twenty, then a ten-pound note, which you pressed into my uninjured hand as you whispered, ‘Look, I can’t tell you what to do . . . but obviously we were . . . well, unprepared yesterday . . . I know I didn’t . . . you know . . . inside . . . but not using a condom was . . . Well, we don’t want any disasters to deal with, do we? I’d write you a prescription, but it’s too risky.’

I scrunched the notes in my fist. ‘No . . . of course. I’ll go to the chemist after work.’

‘Thank you. Obviously, I’d take it myself, if I could. Hey, let’s get that sandwich at lunch, shall we?’ My legs wobbled as I turned. ‘Whoa, are you OK there? I forgot about the whole blood phobia thing.’ You pointed to your own knuckles.