‘It’ll be great to see him on the big screen,’ I said, choosing my words very carefully. ‘I’ve never seen his films in a cinema before.’

This was all true, although it would be more accurate to say I’d never seen any of his films anywhere before. But lies of omission were allowed in the early stages of a relationship. If everyone practised nothing but radical honesty from the off, we’d have never made it out the caves.

I looked longingly at the stalls of books which lined the embankment outside the lobby as Patrick squeezed my hand and hurried me inside the huge concrete building. All of mine were still in storage. No room for literature in the shed.

‘What are you doing Saturday night?’ I asked.

This was the best way to do it, ask him outright at the beginning of the night rather than spending the entire evening worrying about his response when you had no idea what he was going to say.

‘Not sure, why?’ Patrick replied, showing an usher our tickets and grunting quietly when she told us the cinema was still being cleaned and we would have to wait in the lobby for a couple of minutes.

‘At least we weren’t late,’ I remarked, trying to sound as frustrated as he looked. ‘Anyway, about Saturday night.’

‘Do you want to do something?’ He gave me a smile that made me ache. I hoped The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant wasn’t a long movie. ‘There’s an exhibition of collages on at the ICA from this young American woman who was just sent down for murdering her best friend and I’ve been dying to see it. Apparently she used the same knife to kill her friend that she used make the collages. It’s very intense. Let’s do that then make dinner at my place. I’ll show you how to make real pad Thai.’

‘While that sounds fascinating,’ I started, holding his hand tightly to stop myself from gipping, ‘it’s Sumi’s birthday and I’m organizing her party. Will you come?’

He stared over my head, mouth open, response not fully developed.

‘Patrick?’

‘Eesh!’

He let go of my hand and clapped another man on the back in an official buddy hug.

‘Here for Fassbinder?’ the man asked, giving me a polite smile.

‘We are, we are,’ Patrick confirmed.

His friend’s eyes skittered back and forth between the two of us.

‘I’m Ros,’ I said, sticking out my hand towards him.

‘Ishai,’ he replied as he gave it a good shake. ‘Big Fassy fan?’

‘Huge,’ I confirmed. ‘The hugest.’

He and Patrick both laughed and I smiled. It felt like passing a test.