We hadn’t been in touch since then, so it was with some surprise that I saw a call from him while I was waiting for Matty outside Burger King as darkness fell on an October night.

‘Hey stranger.’ I was in a good mood that day.

‘Hey, it’s Ian …’ Yes I know, I thought. ‘Listen, hope it’s okay to call after all this time, I was just wanting your advice, quick bit of advice, that’s all.’ He said this all in a rush, as if he didn’t want me to misinterpret his reason for calling me, and I was reminded how he was one of those men who thinks that any single woman in her thirties must be desperate to have his babies and how he had better be straight up with a woman right from the start as it’s the decent thing to do. It was endearing in a way, as plenty of men are happy to lead you up the garden path, but it was also a little smug. ‘Gilly and I, she’s moved in now, Gilly and I are going to go to Amsterdam and do you remember you said you had that colleague there who had a place there she AirB&B-ed, do you remember?’

‘Anita, yes, sure, want me to text you her details?’

‘Oh would you, thanks? Hey, how are you anyway?’ He wasn’t a bad old stick, Ian. Many men would have just texted or emailed and made no pretence of interest in how I was.

‘Oh, I’m good, really good. Just in town waiting for my new fella, running late, he’s a doctor.’ I couldn’t resist getting that one in.

‘Oh great, cool. How are your folks?’ I had forgotten he had met my parents.

‘They’re good, well, you know.’

‘God yes, remember my mum’s arthritis?’ This had been a standing joke between us. Ian’s widowed mother, who I had never met, was convinced she had arthritis even though the doctors had given her the all clear. ‘She’s saying she’s given it to Aunt Jean. It’s the first known instance of viral arthritis.’

I laughed, a genuine and open laugh, and remembered what I had liked about Ian, his dryness, his anecdotes. We had never really fancied each other all that much but he was good fun, perfectly decent company for a Saturday night. I should make the effort to see him again some time, I thought.

While we had been talking, my phone had buzzed. That was probably Matty trying to tell me he was going to be late – or changing where he wanted to meet. Even six weeks in, I had experience of that habit. ‘Hey, I’ve got to go,’ I said, ‘but I’ll text you Anita’s number, I’m sure she still does it, give her a go.’