She wasn’t sure which of the emotions he thought would change her mind. There was sadness (I can’t live without you, I really can’t, you don’t know what you mean to me), withdrawal (fine, I’m fine, I’ll just sit here in silence, staring out of the window), being a selfless martyr (I’m happy, as long as you’re happy, if you love someone set them free, go well into the world, I’ll always love you but I’ll never hold you back), hopeless sobbing (it’s – sob – I love you – sob – and if – sob – you don’t love – sob – me, I’ll never – sob – understand), arrogance (you’ll be back, though, I know you will, when you realize what you’ve thrown away, people like me don’t grow on trees you know), and anger (you fucking bitch, how could you do this? That’s what you are, you know, a fucking bitch. As long as you’re happy you don’t care about anyone else. You’re a bitch. And a slut. You were fucking that guy, Michael, I know you were).

None of them worked. All of them confirmed her decision.

Most of all the threats.

That’s what he ended with, standing by the door, his rucksack on his back, basketball cap on his head, his eyes red-rimmed.

‘You’ll regret this,’ he said. ‘One day, you’ll regret this.’

‘That’s a risk I’m ready to take,’ she said.

‘It’s not a risk. It’ll happen.’

‘You seem very sure, Ned.’

‘You want to know how I’m so sure?’ he said, his face twisted in anger.

‘Not really,’ she said.

‘I’ll tell you anyway, Alice.’ He leaned forwards and jabbed a finger at her. ‘Because I’ll make you regret it. I’ll damn well make you, if it’s the last thing I do.’

Brenda was sitting at a table by a large bay window reading a book. Windermere glistened in the morning sunshine behind her, swans bobbing on the water.

She looked up as Alice approached. ‘Hey,’ she said. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be visiting the grave of some dead poet?’

‘I was,’ Alice said. ‘But there was a change of plan.’

‘Your boyfriend – Ned, right? – went on his own?’

‘Not exactly. We had a bit of a relationship chat when I got back.’

‘A 2 a.m. relationship chat. Nice. Just what you want.’

‘Right?’ Alice said. ‘Anyway, a few things got said and a few feelings got hurt and in the end – we sort of broke up.’

‘Sort of?’

‘I’m not sure he fully believes it’s over.’

‘Is it over?’ Brenda gestured to the chair opposite. ‘Feel free.’