‘Of course,’ he said. ‘The skiing trip.’

He was glad she was going skiing; he loved her and he wanted her to be happy.

But he was also sad. Because he was not going to see Annabelle for twelve days.

Twelve whole days.

She was going home today. And then tomorrow she was going skiing for a week in Chamonix. Then she would be at home in Richmond for Christmas, and then at her cousins’ house in Scarborough for Boxing Day and then, finally, they would be reunited on 27 December, when he was catching a train and going to stay with her.

He couldn’t bear the thought of it. Over the last two years – other than for a few days here or there – they had been inseparable. One night, as they lay together, arms and legs entwined, she had said to him, I didn’t know it was possible to feel like this.

Me too, he said. I want to be with you all the time.

I know. I knew I liked you when we met, but I had no idea it would turn into this.

It was the same for me, he said. As soon as I met you I was drawn to you. What is that? That feeling you get right from the start?

I don’t know, she said. All I know is it’s real and I love you.

I love you. The words were like a magic charm. He took them everywhere with him. To lectures, the library, the pub: I love you. She. Loves. Me.

And now she was going skiing. She had invited him – all he had to pay was flights and lift tickets and ski rental – but it turned out those things weren’t cheap, and were not something his dad was prepared to invest in.

Dad, he’d said, on the phone a few weeks earlier, please. It can be my Christmas present, and birthday present. For the next decade.

Matt, his dad said. It’s pretty expensive. I would if I could, but I don’t think we can make it work.

‘OK,’ she said. ‘Time to go. I’ve not even started packing.’ She swung her legs out of the bed and stood. She picked up a T-shirt and pulled it over her head.

‘Stay,’ he said. ‘It’s nice and warm in here.’

‘I don’t have time.’

He sat up and put his hands around her waist. He kissed her stomach.

‘Do you have time for this?’ he murmured.

It turned out she did.

When he had packed, he went to Annabelle’s room. It was empty, her belongings in bags by the door. She hugged him tight when he walked in.

‘I’m going to miss you,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next two weeks.’

‘Twelve days,’ Matt said. ‘Only twelve days.’

‘That doesn’t help.’