I continued: ‘Come on, you can sleep over at mine.’

On my mezzanine she whispered in the darkness: ‘Remember the time when I lay here and had wet myself?’

This was the first time she’d mentioned it. The words felt strange, as though her voice just decided that it had really happened that night.

‘Yeah, I remember,’ I said.

‘It wasn’t on purpose. I’m really sorry.’

‘It’s fine. I told you that.’

‘Yeah, I know. But I just wanted to apologise anyway. There’s something in me that makes me … lose control sometimes. I fall asleep. And I …’

I turned towards her, could only just make out the contours of her face in the dark.

‘And what else?’

‘I come over to yours.’

‘Is that you losing control?’

‘No, maybe not.’

‘I thought you were scared or something.’

‘Yeah. That’s it. I feel … different.’

‘How?’

‘I don’t know, I don’t understand what’s happening. It just feels like this is where I should be.’

I turned around with my head facing the plasterboard. It smelled rotten, of wood and mould.

‘I saw the two of you.’

‘Who?’

‘You and Pym, on the mezzanine, fucking like rabbits. You should have told me that’s what you wanted.’

‘Oh, Little Jo. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean it … I don’t really understand how it happened. I only meant to kiss him, and … I don’t remember much after that.’

‘But why?’

‘I think I was just … afraid to lose you.’

‘What do you mean lose me?’

‘I don’t know … you’ll fall in love … and then you’ll move out … and then I’ll be alone here again …’

‘Move out? I don’t even like him! And you didn’t need to fuck him.’

‘I’m sorry, Jo.’

The floorboards creaked loudly when I turned and rolled out of bed. Her arm stroked my back, but I pulled away. My insides were pounding. Then it was quiet for a little while before she whispered: ‘But you’re saying you don’t like him?’

‘No, I don’t. I just wish you’d told me about it.’

‘I’m so sorry, Jo, I’m so sorry.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Are you gonna move out?’

‘Maybe. I don’t know. Yes,’ I said.

She pulled my shoulder back so I lay down again. Then she turned me toward her, her face against mine. ‘Don’t go. Come back to me.’

Our foreheads were touching. Two thin crusts of landmass.

‘I’m not leaving,’ I said.