I open my mouth to tell him, but I worry if I do that he’ll laugh and think I’m weird that I wrote to myself, or, worse, that he’d want to read it.

‘It was from an old friend that I’d met the summer after my A levels. We worked at a holiday park in Dorset together.’

He doesn’t put two and two together to realise that’s the year that my mum died.

‘Oh, right,’ he says. ‘Do you need to write back or take a moment?’

I wipe under my eyes and I attempt to smile. I can’t think about it now. Miles has gone out of his way to do all this for me.

‘No, it’s fine. So, what film have you picked?’

‘Love Story. The website said pick a love story, so I assumed it would be perfect.’

I scrunch my eyes shut. That’s depressing on a good day, let alone after reading the email that I’ve just received.

‘What? Don’t you like it?’

‘It’s just … it’s a bit sad.’ That being a massive understatement.

‘Oh, really? It’s not romantic?’ His face falls.

‘Well, it is,’ I say, trying to give him credit, ‘but it’s also a story of heartbreak too.’

‘Oh, I should have done better research.’ He looks so disappointed. There he is in his tux, which he might rip through at any moment. He’s gone to so much trouble.

‘It’s fine, we can stick Bridget Jones on instead.’

I need something that’s funny and warm and something that can distract me from the maelstrom in my mind.

‘Perfect. Pop it on and I’ll get the cheese out and we can start our cheesy night.’

He gets up like a mechanical robot.

‘Edie, do you mind if I change first? I should have perhaps tried the tux on beforehand.’

‘Change away. Thanks for making the effort.’

He bends down and kisses me and we hear an unmistakable sound of ripping and we both wince.

Miles shuffles out and both of us can’t help laughing at how silly he looks. It momentarily lifts my mood, but, when he disappears, thoughts of the email flood back.

‘Bloody hell,’ I mutter, closing my eyes.

I wonder if somewhere in the back of my mind I was expecting this email and that’s why I’ve felt anxious about turning thirty-five.

My head’s spinning and all I can think of is the next instalment, because I might not remember what I wrote but I do remember that once I started sending emails to the future, I couldn’t stop.

Chapter 4

THEN