I shake my head, disappointed in myself. ‘I copied him. Told him I “reckoned” I loved him, too. I mean, shit. He died not knowing that I was so in love with him, you know, as much as a grown woman can be after a few months. Tequila?’

‘Ooh, I can still feel the first one about here,’ he indicates his upper torso with his hand.

‘Good. Two tequilas please!’

Patpong market is on the opposite side of the road. It’s getting late now; the neon lights are in full glory, the haggling crowds growing by the minute. We’re handed paper flyers for ping-pong shows in nearby bars, as casual as a fast food discount.

‘Chloe, I think you know in your heart if Jack loved you,’ Justin says, kindly.

‘No, I honestly don’t.’

And there lies the answer to my quest. Or maybe not the answer, but the reason. I came here to give my short-lived relationship a higher status; a deeper meaning. If I couldn’t get the words out of Jack Carmichael, I was seeking reassurance elsewhere. Failing on all levels.

Naturally.

This quest is fucking bonkers.

I neck my tequila, clear my throat and put on a dreamy voice.

‘What’s behind the picture?’ I joke, taking the piss out of myself, then snapping back to normal. ‘Get a fucking grip, Chloe.’

Justin drinks his shot and for a moment, I think he might puke. Instead, he whoops.

‘Okay, okay,’ he says, drum-rolling his hands on the table. ‘I got a game for us.’

‘Oh no …’

‘Come on, gimme a chance. I just poisoned myself with tequila for you.’

‘Thanks for shifting blame, hun.’

‘I think this game’ll help. With our problems.’

I squint, noticing how bleary things have become. I’m drunk. And glad of it.

‘You tell me one thing you loved about Jack – OR – that he loved about you,’ he says. ‘And then, I’ll tell you one thing I hated about Sabrina – OR – that she hated about me.’

‘How the fuck is this gonna help us?’

‘Trust me. I’m old. Wise.’

‘You’re pissed as a fart.’

‘Come on …’

‘Okay, but I need wine. This beer’s making me burp loads.’

Justin staggers from the bench and calls for a large glass of red. I wanted white, but what the hell. I release another burp, covering my mouth, and feel instantly much, much better. I kick off the game.

‘I loved how Jack was a big, sexy bear.’

‘I hated how Sabrina wouldn’t let me touch her legs if she hadn’t shaved them.’

‘I loved how Jack’d sing all the time, any place, if a song jumped into his head.’

‘Surely, you hated that?’

‘No, I loved it. And he loved how I’d listen, or dance, sometimes join in.’