It was almost nine o’clock in the morning and she’d promised Francine she’d cover a split shift for one of the agency girls who wanted to finish early. She didn’t have to be at work for another hour, so, after her shower and pulling back the curtains in the flat, she switched on her phone.

‘Eddie,’ she said with a lot more poise than she felt. Inside, her stomach was doing somersaults for all her earlier bravery.

‘Huh?’ It had clearly been a very late night. ‘What time is it?’

‘It’s early, but I needed to talk to you. Are you awake yet?’

‘Huh? Yeah, I don’t have much of a bloody choice now, do I?’

‘No, you don’t. I rang you because I’m finishing things between us!’

‘You’re what?’ She could hear something vaguely resembling wakefulness abruptly come into his voice. She’d like to think he shot up in the bed, shocked and devastated, but this was Eddie, and she knew he was probably too hung-over for devastation to set in.

‘Yes. I’m sorry to spring it on you, by phone, but really, it’s better this way. It gives you time to sort out somewhere to live when you come back to Dublin after the holidays.’

‘You’re throwing me out of the flat?’ He was stupefied and she almost felt a little bad for catching him on the hop, until she remembered the note from Anya. ‘Hang on a minute there…’

‘No. You hang on. I know you’ve been sleeping with Anya and regardless of what you believe, I’m not a complete doormat.’

‘You can’t just throw me out of my home. I have rights.’

‘It’s my flat, Eddie.’ She felt a tremor of fear slip over her as she looked about her newly tidied living room. Could he try and make some sort of claim on the place? Squatter’s rights? She couldn’t bear that, because she realised just how much she loved this little place. It had been her haven when Rachel died and she’d felt exactly the same comfort the previous evening as she’d sat watching the flames lick up the chimney. Why had she taken it for granted over the last few years? It was as if it had turned into little more than a place to sleep, a place to share with Eddie and his vast collection of trainers and video games. It could do with a lick of paint. Everything about it had sort of grown shabbier over the last few years. How had she not noticed that until now?