Against the ruptures of continents, what did human dramas matter? What possible consequence did her little breakup have? It wasn’t so momentous, she told herself severely. She put aside all reminders of Jimmy, including the silver fob bracelet he’d recently given her. She didn’t especially like it, and thought of giving it to her sister. Actually, the gift was puzzling. It was not his style or hers (she favoured stacks of bangles). He bought it at Tiffany, the Bond Street store, and this made her think of the glossy couples in the Tiffany ads on buses. The couples were always blond and dynastic-looking. She would rather he had given her a cheap and cheerful candy necklace, which you could wear or eat or both, and cost next to nothing.

It was lonely being single, but nowhere near as lonely as she’d felt in the relationship. In the months before the breakup, the dynamic between them had been increasingly lopsided, and she had tired of being the chatty one. At times she felt shown up by Jimmy’s steadiness, as though by comparison she was somehow frivolous. He had become more and more serious, less and less playful. And once the fun was gone – well, what was the point? It was like trying to hang onto a day-old helium balloon, one of the pitiful gift-shop ones she sometimes saw in wards, tied to bedside rails or the wrist of a young patient. Sinking, not rising. Getting in the way.

Feeling strangely vindicated, she busied herself in her studies. This was easy enough to do, she had textbooks to pore over, and it was only at odd moments that her thoughts strayed to Jimmy and the times they’d spent together. They’d met at a mutual friend’s house party, where of course he’d commandeered the bar, really the kitchen bench. That year everyone was drinking sugary cocktails – caipirinhas and caipiroskas – but he made her a martini without asking what she wanted. It was easy to fall in love with him in his bartender guise. He was good at it and he knew it, allowing himself a tactile pleasure in the act of making drinks. This was when he was most relaxed, when the weight of other things in his life was temporarily suspended.

It was curious the way he hated sugary cocktails. When it came to sweets he devoured them like a child. They often stopped at his uncle’s shop to raid the jars on the counter. It made his aunt and uncle happy to be able to give him something, so he and Phoebe would always leave with their pockets full. They went for Astro Belts (her sour favourite) and chewy Poppets toffees. Musk sticks and pastilles (the blackcurrant ones, not the green ones, which were vile). And white chocolate Disco Discs the size of periwinkle shells, crusted with sprinkles.