This might be a cue for a much longer conversation but I’m tired after the drive and not having the apartment to myself has come as a bit of a shock. It’s been a while since I spent any serious time with my son and while it’s nice to catch up, the prospect of him moving back in alarms me deeply. The last time we lived together, his drug of choice was Spice: cheap, addictive, nasty. It turned him into a zombie, an experience I never want to live through again, and it was only the discovery of his real father that gave me my sanity back. H is nerveless on life’s tighter bends, and I’m still grateful for the way he took charge of our feckless son.

‘Does H know about Clemmie?’ I ask him.

‘Not yet.’

‘Aren’t you going to tell him?’

‘Yeah. Maybe.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Nothing. You know what he thinks of her.’

‘He thinks she’s wonderful. Like we all do. And like you should.’

‘Who says I don’t?’

‘This does.’ I gesture down at the sofa, at the line of empties, at the roll-up still smouldering between Malo’s fingers. ‘Take a look at yourself. I’m guessing this is what that lovely girl has to come home to every night. Are you surprised she wants out?’

Malo is staring up at me. I can see the surprise in his eyes.

‘That’s harsh.’ He’s trying to make me smile. ‘You’re supposed to be my mum, take my side, make me feel better.’

‘Better about what? About making Clemmie’s life a misery? In your dreams, Malo. In case you haven’t noticed, there are other people on the planet apart from your lovely self and I suggest you spare a thought for them, too. One of them’s Clemmie. Another is me. You might start by clearing up after yourself and taking that bloody thing outside. No one smokes in this flat. I think I may have mentioned it before.’

I bend quickly and take the roll-up. Malo is incredulous, as well as angry. He watches me pinch the end of the roll-up between my fingers and step into the kitchen. I drop it in the bin and return to the lounge. He’s upright now, sitting on the sofa.

‘Well …?’ I’m nodding at the bottles. ‘I’m serious, Malo. If you’re really wanting to stay here, if you really think it’s over with Clemmie, then we have to get one or two things straight. This is my place. This is where I live. So either you give it a bit of respect, and me too while you’re at it, or I suggest you go and live with H.’

Malo gazes at me. It’s been a while since I’ve been this frank with him.

‘That might not be possible,’ he says at last.

‘Why not?’