They took their drinks back into the living room and Becky felt herself sinking blissfully into the new sofa. She stretched her socked feet out towards the flames, enjoying the sensation of playing at grown-up houses.

‘Nice sofa,’ she said, stoking the soft cover.

He was looking at her strangely, almost with a sense of unease.

‘What’s up? Have I taken your seat or something?’

‘No! It’s fine,’ said Adam quickly, sitting next to her. ‘It’s woven chenille.’

Becky giggled. ‘What’s that?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, I like it. Your mum has good taste.’

The coffee, on the other hand, was disgusting.

‘Actually, I’ve got something in the fridge,’ remembered Adam, once they’d both politely coughed after the caffeine-attack in their throats. ‘It was a house-warming from Trixie. I’ve never wanted to drink it alone . . . Shall we?’

Becky knew she’d had enough already and that he should probably save it to drink with Trixie, but what the hell. The coffee abandoned, the cork was popped, and the bubbles overflowed. Adam went to a CD player on the teak bookshelf. ‘What’s your thing?’ he asked, holding up half a dozen CDs.

‘Extensive collection,’ teased Becky.

He peered at them. ‘I hate to say this, but I think Mum may have bought these too. Fancy any?’

‘Lucky dip?’

He slotted in a CD and the opening bars to Fun’s ‘We Are Young’ started up. ‘Oh my God,’ said Becky, sitting up. ‘Spring 2012. Revising for my mock A Levels. This got me through.’ She started to sing, softly at first, feeling self-conscious. ‘Tonight. We are young . . .’

And then he joined in: ‘We can burn brighter than the suuuuunnnn.’

They fell about laughing. ‘All I wanted in life back then was to be cool enough to live in a teen movie and this was the perfect soundtrack,’ said Adam. ‘Listening to it made me feel like I could speak to girls.’

‘You’re doing all right,’ said Becky and he smiled bashfully. She watched as he took a drink. He held the glass between his fingers as if it were something incredibly fragile and his spectacles seemed to get in the way of the rim as he tipped it towards his face. She felt a pang of fondness.

‘You’ve got a great place. How long have you been here?’

‘Last September. Moved in when I got the job.’

‘So, what are your plans in this fabulous new job?’

‘Oh, you know, the usual. Work hard, get promoted.’

It was off pat, almost dismissive.

‘Are you going to invent a ground-breaking new pesticide?’

‘Maybe . . . How about you? Going to break some big story?’

‘I hope so.’

‘Well, good luck to you,’ said Adam and he joined her again on the sofa and chinked her glass.

‘And you,’ pressed Becky, but he was sitting upright, looking at his fizz. She turned sideways to face him, tucking her feet under her legs. ‘We’re the lucky ones. Employed graduates. In industries we love.’