‘Tilly’s wedding?’

‘Ehh.’ I nod my head slightly, hoping that the nod will convey what my words would normally help describe.

He looks at me and I remember that I’m wearing his jumper. All I can do is hope he hasn’t noticed. I’m painfully aware that the last time we spoke I was begging him to kiss me. I wonder what shade of red my face is.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see my mum frozen to the spot, eyes darting between the two of us, trying not to look conspicuous, but with a huge grin on her face. She looks like she wants to clap.

‘Well, sorry for disturbing you. I thought I would pop over. I realize this is very odd timing, but I had some thoughts on the, er –’ he looks at my mum – ‘business plan that I wanted to share with you.’ He makes to disentangle himself from Hugo, who just gets more in the way. ‘I realize it’s an odd time,’ he says again.

I still can’t tell what he’s actually thinking. Is this really why he’s here – to talk business? When we used to study together he would often get inspiration at the weirdest moments, leaving parties to go home and write an essay. But maybe he feels as bad as I do about how odd things are between us? It makes sense. If he’s moving he probably wants to leave with a clean slate.

Mum chimes in, ‘Oh no, it’s wonderful that you’re here. I mean, these thoughts come whenever they come, don’t they? Bea told us you’d been helping her, it’s very kind of you. You two make a good team.’ She winks. I didn’t even know she could wink.

Kill me now.

And it only gets worse. Fred comes to say hello, followed by an unashamedly nosy Anna.

Weirdly manly and pretty awkward greetings happen, which prove to be extremely hard to pull off in the tight space provided by the entryway. Fred isn’t exactly small, but Peter’s limbs really are very long.

It’s too much for me to handle and I feel the need for some space.

‘Why don’t we move into the house and out of the hallway.’ Finally I’ve found some words.

‘Great idea. Peter, would you like some tea? Or wine? Either way, let’s go to the kitchen.’ Mum starts to direct us down the hallway.

‘Tea would be great. Thank you.’

Once in the kitchen, I wonder if I made the right choice. The kitchen is bigger and has brighter lights, meaning everyone is suddenly more visible. I imagine my emotions are written all over my still very red and now very visible face. I wish they weren’t.

The five minutes it takes to make the tea is the longest year of my life. For once, Peter looks a bit unsure about what to do; he’s not meeting anyone’s eye. In a weird way, it gives me confidence.

‘Well, erm, I don’t want to bore everyone with my thoughts. Bea, shall you and I take this into the … a different room?’