‘There she is! Wolfie! Wolfie! Stop the car, Dad, we’re here!’

George had already undone his seatbelt and, as he wriggled around on his knees to wave at Wolfie while we cruised past to a parking space, I couldn’t help turning back as well. I thought how weird it was that she seemed so familiar after that one drunken meeting. I saw her pull her fringe down over her face and shift her weight from one foot to the other, and it struck me she looked as nervous as I felt. Not a great sign. I’d tried not to think about my sister’s reaction to seeing me, so of course I’d thought about little else. But the truth was, I didn’t have a clue how the scenario was about to play out, except for the high probability that Lou wasn’t going to be very fucking happy about it, as Wolfie had so confidently predicted.

‘Hold your horses, George. Sit back down right now, and don’t you dare touch that window!’ George went ahead and dared, and as the window slid down and he attempted to lean his entire upper body out of it, Wolfie was there.

‘Hey, George. Whoa there, dude.’ She poked her head into the car. ‘Hi, Dom, hi . . .’ She nodded at me and I wondered if she’d forgotten my name. ‘Um, hi, Danny.’ What a relief. George was staring up at her with an expression that could only be described as rapturous. She started to open the back door, then stopped and poked her head back in.

‘Sorry, Dom, is it OK if . . .?’

‘Hi, Wolfie. Yes, he can get out now, but just make sure you hold on to his hand, please.’

‘Dad! I’m not a baby!’ George was clearly torn between the shame of being emasculated in front of his first crush and the prospect of meaningful bodily contact with her. He cut his losses and grabbed her hand before he even got out. Good for you, Georgie.

I watched them walk across the road, George already in full verbal flight. ‘Do you know about good, better, best, Wolfie? What’s your good, better, best favourite book? Mine’s The Gruffalo, is that yours, too?’

God, I thought. I remember that feeling. First crush and every crush after that; there was nothing like it. I didn’t know whether to be happy or scared for him, just starting out. Pace yourself. Be careful. Hang on tight to your little heart there now, Georgie.

Dom materialised beside me, swung the passenger door open and put his hand on my arm as if he was about to help me out, like I was some doddery old dear. He’s about the only guy in the world who could make that feel like quite a lovely idea and not an insult, but now he looked down at me and smiled a bit uncertainly.

‘Are you OK, mate? I mean, about . . .’ He waved his hand in the direction of the flats. ‘All this? Seeing Lou again? I know I pushed you into it, but I’m sure it’s going to be fine.’