‘I’ve never known weather like this!’ Evie exclaims, as they reach the services. It’s a medium-sized squat building that thankfully has power. There’s a couple of fast-food restaurants, toilets, paid-for showers and two coffee shops. There’s a subdued atmosphere, like the snow has insulated the collective volume.

‘No,’ Duke says, carefully moderating his voice to compensate for snapping earlier. ‘Me neither.’

The driver excuses himself and tells Duke he’ll text when he knows anything, leaving just the two of them. They stand side by side surveying the service station, and when Duke has cast his eye over the place once, twice, twenty times, he goes to say, ‘Shall we find something to warm us up?’ but right as he does Evie announces: ‘I’m going to explore. Catch you later.’

She’s gone before he can stop her. Damn. He’s screwed this up; he shouldn’t have been so short. He was getting it from all ends, though: production, Brad, his team – even Daphne had made a throwaway comment about him being away with the fairies. Who doesn’t look at their phone for five hours after they’ve disappeared from set? was the general gist. How does he explain that whilst hanging out with Evie he forgot that the rest of the world existed, let alone his phone? And that deep down, he’s not sorry about it?

He hadn’t wanted their night to end. Something was different with her – she opened up to him. He hasn’t known her long, but he knows enough to understand that that occurrence is a rare one. Serendipitous, that was the word. That he was there, and she was there, and they both felt like being together was better than being alone. So they’d walked and talked and laughed and she’d made him think, too. Everything he takes for granted, she challenges and questions. It makes him aware that if he’s been unhappy, he’s got more control over it than he’s given himself credit for. She’s been more effective in holding him accountable to himself in a night than Phoebe, his therapist, has been in six years. The way Evie sees the world makes his own vision clearer.

He unzips his coat, but keeps it on for now. Maybe there’s a heater he can leave it on, or at the very least a coat hook. His feet are like ice, so he heads to the store where he’s delighted to find a modest selection of winter essentials: socks, gloves, wellies, little gel packs that you crack to warm up. He buys a veritable smorgasbord, just in case this thing goes on for longer than he’d like. He heads to the biggest window at the far end to take a look at what’s going on. It’s still going strong. Bugger.