‘Hi,’ Jacob says meekly, unsure of how to greet me. Hug, handshake, air-kiss? He hesitates and stands back. ‘You good?’

‘Hi, yes thanks – you OK?’ I say, noticing that he is wearing new shoes too. He looks so different from the last time I saw him.

I take my coat off and sit down on the stool next to him. It feels cosy and, dare I say, romantic. Maybe it’s the fairy lights framing the windows. The smell of freshly baked bread is wafting out from the kitchen as a song by Little Dragon plays quietly in the background. Thank god there is music. It dilutes the awkwardness. The last thing I want is people overhearing or snooping on our conversation.

On the table next to us, I notice an oldish man with grey hair and a young woman with long dark hair eating lentil soup with bread on the side. They are speaking loudly in Polish. All of a sudden, the woman stands up and starts full-on shouting at the old man. We don’t know what she’s saying, but she’s angry, it looks like she’s about to flip the table. They go outside onto the street to carry on the argument, so they can really raise their voices, but it’s muffled through the window. We see her arms thrashing around, and his face all screwed up. It’s like watching a fight scene in a movie with the sound turned off.

‘Wow – at least we’re not like them,’ Jacob jokes.

‘They’ve got some beef, clearly,’ I say.

‘I’m so nosy. I want to know what they’re saying. I wonder what he’s done? Not sure whether he’s her dad or what.’

‘Yeah, god knows. Hope they sort it out.’

I’m very grateful for the ice-breaker. We transfer some of our own awkwardness into watching them for a bit. On the table in front of us, a young mum and dad are trying to control their baby twins who are in highchairs. They are screaming the place down. Their screeches pierce my eardrums. Such big lungs for two tiny humans.

‘Anyway, you’re probably wondering why I got in touch.’ Jacob’s eyes look sore and bloodshot. He doesn’t look great. I feel bad that my first reaction is relief. Relief that he is also human, and also struggling with life. The screaming babies quieten a little. The mum puts Frubes into their sticky hands.

‘You look tired,’ I say.

‘Ha, thanks. Isn’t that code for “you look like shit”?’

‘No, I just meant … are you all right?’

‘Not really. Sorry to have messaged you. I know we were going to try having a proper clean break. But. Well, I’ve been going through a bit of a weird time, and I miss you.’

There’s an awkward pause that I don’t want to fill. I wait for Jacob to continue.

‘Umm. So I just really wanted to see you, that’s the first thing. The second thing is I found a lump. It’s really put things into perspective.’