‘For a while I thought I might do something in science – I love working out how and why things work. But I didn’t qualify for a bursary at uni because technically our household income was too high, even though … well, Mum drinks. Please don’t tell anyone because I don’t want anything in the papers about it. I asked for this life; she didn’t. But yeah. In theory we were this mother-and-son middle-class family, so on paper I didn’t need any help, but behind closed doors she was barely functional, mismanaged all her cash, all her bills, things like that. It was my secondary-school drama teacher who said I could try auditioning, see if I could get some cash-in-hand gigs as an extra for a couple of projects she knew were local. And it all started from there. As soon as it clicked that you can make a living from saying stuff on camera – like, come on, let’s be honest, how is that real? – I didn’t want to do anything else. Mum seemed to drink less for a little bit after my first appearance on this BBC show, as the friend of the main guy. I had maybe ninety seconds of screen time over four episodes but it’s the first time she acted like she was proud of me. Sorry. I’m talking a lot, aren’t I? Always did love a monologue.’

Evie can tell he suddenly feels awkward about how much he’s revealed, so she doesn’t press him. The small back streets give way to wider roads, guiding them back to the centre, the lights making the damp cobbles glisten and ever so slightly slippery.

‘Gah!’ Evie shrieks, as she skids on a stone. She rights herself sheepishly. ‘Spot the attention seeker,’ she jokes. ‘Sorry. I was literally just about to say that I am enjoying your monologue. I feel honoured that you trust me. Because you can. I know what I said earlier, but I can be a vault when I need to be.’ She motions locking her lips and throwing away the key, and he sniggers.

‘I absolutely believe you,’ he says. ‘Thousands wouldn’t.’

Evie gives a fake beam and flutters her eyelashes.

‘To round off my sad tale,’ he continues, and they’re walking closer to each other now; there’s room to meander side by side. If they were on the clock as fake lovers Evie would be tempted to slip her hand into his. He has big hands, she’s noticed, with long thick fingers and perfectly rounded, short nails. ‘Surprise! It didn’t last. But Christ, I think I’ve dedicated my whole career to trying to impress her enough to get her to stop drinking again. Surprise number two: it has, so far, been a complete and utter waste of my time.’