There was a collage of burnt oranges and bright yellows in Fred’s hallway. I hadn’t remembered much about the décor of the apartment – on account of my head usually being in a spin when I left, or arrived – but the latest flower portraits to bloom in the hall and the self-portrait in the living room had stuck.

‘It’s sweet that you noticed that. Drink?’ She was already walking to the kitchen. ‘I’ve got wine in the fridge if you’d like something with a kick, or coffee in the pot if you’d like something with … Hm, well, I suppose I only have things with a kick. Alcoholic or non-alcoholic, though, I can do.’ She started to rifle through drawers until she found a pair of scissors. One flower after the next she hacked away at the stems, and every romantic comedy in the world had taught me that when a woman was wielding a sharp object you probably shouldn’t break up with her. I stood on the other side of the kitchen counter and watched her; not from fear or worry, but with deep admiration – mixed with something like gratitude. Her head was angled towards the flowers still, but she looked up and caught me staring. ‘What?’

‘I didn’t say anything,’ I snapped.

‘No but you’re staring.’ She dropped the flowers into a vase and turned to fill it with water. ‘If you think it’s too early for wine then you can have coffee. Ah shit, or tea. I know it’s more your thing.’

I laughed. ‘You’ll have wine even if I think it’s too early?’

‘Ha! But you see …’ She turned in a dramatic swirl and flicked her hair out of the way. ‘I’m an artist, dahling. Plus, your decisions don’t impact on mine so …’ She winked. ‘What’ll it be?’

‘One gallery show and it goes to her head.’

‘Hey, you haven’t seen the space.’ She opened the fridge and pulled the wine out.

‘I’d like to, still. If that’s okay?’ I hadn’t even broken things off yet and I was already playing the part of the guilty one; skulking around like Fred mightn’t want me in her life anymore. And worse still, she looked like she sensed it. She was pouring wine already, so she only glanced up at me briefly, but I could see she was suspicious.

‘Shush, Edi, why wouldn’t it be okay?’