‘I go away for Christmas. Far, far away. Usually right after the ball. Get through Thanksgiving, show up tonight, then disappear for a month. I’m not missed.’

I looked up and saw Evan’s profile picked out in starlight. Our lives were very different, but maybe, as people, we were more similar than I’d thought possible.

‘You’re very easy to talk to, did you know that?’ he said.

‘It’s been said,’ I replied lightly. ‘I don’t know. I think a lot of people feel like they aren’t being heard, so instead of really listening to what the other person is saying, they just wait for their turn to speak and continue the cycle. Life is so hard and we don’t make it any easier on each other. That’s my theory, anyway.’

‘I have a theory on life too,’ Evan said, unfastening one of his cufflinks and turning it over and over in his fingers. ‘I think life is like a jigsaw puzzle.’

‘Makes a change from a box of chocolates,’ I said. ‘Go on, wow me with your theory.’

One corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile. ‘Think about it. The puzzle starts out as one of those chunky, easy things with half a dozen pieces. Maybe Mom helps a little, but most of the time we can put it together all by ourselves and we’re like, “Oh shit! It’s a cow!” and everyone claps.’

‘I definitely had that jigsaw,’ I said, watching his fingers manipulate the silver cufflink. Or was it platinum? As if I’d know the difference. ‘But I’m from Yorkshire, so no one clapped.’

Evan grinned and carried on with his theory.

‘As we get older, the puzzle gets more complicated; it has more pieces, it’s not so obvious what it’s going to be when it’s complete. Some people come into our lives and they help with the puzzle, they see parts we hadn’t figured out yet, and other people come in and make it more complicated. They hide pieces from you or they mess up the parts you’ve already put together.’

‘Maybe I should have been doing jigsaws instead of baking all that bloody banana bread,’ I muttered, my stomach grumbling.

‘What I’m trying to say,’ Evan slipped the cufflink back into his shirt and flipped it closed, ‘is that even when you think someone has totally fucked up your puzzle, once they’re gone and you look at the mess they made, maybe you see something you missed before.’

He really had spent a lot of time thinking about this. Possibly too much time, it was hard to say.

‘What if you’re so used to helping someone with their jigsaw, you forget to work on your own?’ I asked, sliding my hands inside the sleeves of his jacket.