‘I know. I’m sorry,’ she said, deciding in that moment to go for raw honesty. ‘I have no excuse. I went to London, got ideas above my station, came a cropper, and now I’m back with my tail between my legs.’

It felt so incredibly wrong to dismiss what she had done in these terms, but making light of it was generally the best way to prevent the conversation going in a direction that she wasn’t ready for.

Jez, however, appeared to be having none of her diversionary tactics. ‘I’m sorry about the accident,’ he said. ‘It’s crap and I have no idea how you’re coping with it. It must be hell.’

That was the closest anyone had come to summing up how things really were.

‘Thanks,’ she said.

‘And what’s it like being back?’ he asked.

‘Honestly?’ she asked. ‘It’s shit.’

He raised an eyebrow as if to say, ‘Thanks very much,’ and so she added, ‘No offence. Mum and Dad don’t know what to do, so they have decided to treat me as if I’m five. My hard-won stellar career is disintegrating with every week that goes by, and now the love of my life has decided that I’m not worth waiting for. And that’s on top of . . .’ She took a deep breath. ‘Well, that’s all on top of everything else I’m dealing with. So yes, it’s all pretty bad.’

There was a pause whilst Jez allowed what she had just said to settle on the table between them like dust from an explosion.

‘Could be worse,’ he said. ‘You could be dead.’

She might have replied that that would be preferable, but she knew he wouldn’t stand for any self-pity on her part, so instead she just nodded weakly.

‘So, what are you going to do?’ he asked her. ‘How are you going to fix it?’

The baldness of his question surprised her. In the whole time since the accident nobody, not even Dominic, had spoken to her so directly. Everyone else had pussyfooted around, talking in euphemisms and half-finished sentences as if, by not actually discussing the facts, they would somehow evaporate of their own accord. But Jez had known her forever. They had shared their first cigarette, their first stolen can of cider, their first kiss, and other firsts that she held close to her heart. And with that level of intimacy came the privilege of being able to cut out all the white noise and go straight to the pure ringing note at the situation’s heart.