My head shook; my eyes fluttered. The question – or the sound of his voice, maybe – stunned me. But the realities of it soon landed and I said, ‘No, no, Betty and Lily are going to a feminist meet that’s happening on campus tonight. They won’t be back until later.’

‘My place is empty if …’

If what? I thought. If this takes longer than a few hours to fix? I huffed a near laugh and then went back to staring at my single spot on the floor. I must have looked catatonic to him. And then I laughed again; not at the catatonia, but at the thought of how he must see me. Do you have the same worry, of how I see you now? I glanced up at him and let the thought roll around.

‘What?’ he asked, spotting my eyes shift.

‘Who was she?’ I finally asked. In his rehashing of the whole thing, I’d told him I didn’t want to know. But I reserved the right to change my mind in any situation, especially this one. Rowan was bright – normally – so he must have known the question would come.

‘You don’t know her.’

‘Did you?’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t understand?’

‘Did you know her, or did you just, you know?’

He pulled in a big breath. ‘She’s the daughter of someone Dad knows. I don’t really …’ His sentence trailed off. It looked as though he was struggling to breathe and in that bitter moment I couldn’t even worry about him. I could only think: Imagine how I must feel. ‘I don’t really know her. She visits the house sometimes, with her parents, and we’re always thrown together as the kids. You know how Mum and Dad are, getting me out of sight and all.’

‘You can pop that violin away,’ I snapped.

‘I didn’t mean – I didn’t – I’m sorry. It’s not an excuse or anything. I just meant, that’s how we came to be alone. That’s how we’ve come to be alone before.’

‘And this time?’

Another big breath. ‘She came over with her parents. They all suggested going for food and I didn’t want to go, really, so I said I was going to stay home for the night. She said she’d call a taxi from our house, and skip dinner as well.’

‘Smooth.’

‘Edi, please—’