It didn’t occur to her that just his reappearance might be enough to pique her interest in him. Tamsin prided herself on her pragmatism; unlike Chris, she had no time for fate or destiny or kismet. But coincidence is a powerful aphrodisiac. After their first encounter seven years ago, Tamsin remembered Chris chiefly because of the unusual circumstances in which they met. Then she forgot him, because he had been uninteresting to her. When she saw him again at Leo’s party, there was suddenly a pair of coincidences, mutually amplifying their significance. Then there had been that supper at Callum’s, and now here he was again, in town for the weekend, apparently, just wondering what she and Callum were up to, whether he could join them for supper, perhaps even stay the night … The effect of these repetitions was, subtly but surely, one of emphasis added, his name in italics in her mind.

As Tamsin struggled with the zip on dress number two, virtue abruptly won out. She loved Callum, very much: she had no business baring her legs for Chris, or anyone else. In the top left-hand corner of the mirror was a small sticker collection, comprising three holographic hearts in shades of puce, six fuzzy-felt teddy bears, a parakeet and a hamburger, placed there by the eight-year-old Tamsin. For years, Tamsin had barely even noticed the stickers; now, suddenly, she found herself irritated by them. She peeled them all off, crumpled them into a tacky ball, and rubbed ineffectually at their gummy ghosts with spit.

When she went down to the sitting room to say goodbye to her mother, Tamsin was wearing jeans, a plain white collared shirt and just a little more makeup than usual. She walked briskly, as in the wake of a job well done, though in fact the opposite was true: by identifying her attraction and labelling it forbidden, she had only succeeded in augmenting it. (Just as the impulsive, insignificant lie she had told Callum lent her dealings with Chris an element of the clandestine that contributed to his growing mystique.)

‘Mummy?’

Roz was absorbed in a text message. At the sound of her name, she started.

‘I’m just off. Who’s the message from?’ Tamsin tried to look but her mother whisked the phone out of sight.

‘Oh, no one, it’s nothing important.’

As they kissed goodbye, Tamsin felt a surprising heat radiating from her mother’s powdered cheek.

* * *

When Tamsin arrived at the Edgware Road flat at seven thirty, Callum wasn’t back – but Chris was there, sitting on the sofa, flicking through one of Callum’s sketchbooks. He looked up guiltily.

‘Sorry – Callum’s flatmate, she let me in – I hope it’s okay if I—’

‘No, of course, it’s fine, go ahead. You just – I’ll just go and say hi to Leah—’ They were both talking too loudly.

‘Um, I think she’s in the shower.’