‘. . . You could say that,’ she said after a moment, collapsing onto the battered black leather sofa opposite Tove and stretching out, letting her feet dangle over the arm. She closed her eyes as if that would still her mind, but the thoughts continued rushing like a river in flood.

‘Here.’

She looked up to see Kris standing over her and holding out a chilled bottle of beer. She gave a happy sigh of contentment. ‘I love you,’ she smiled. His dirty blonde hair was pulled up into his signature man-bun and he looked unseasonably tanned, thanks to a recent gig for some surf brand in Sydney. His modelling jobs easily paid the rent, but cooking was his real passion, and he was saving to get enough to open his own place – a small bar specializing in craft beers and Hawaiian food.

She pushed herself up to a sitting position and crossed her legs, feeling none of Elise’s urge to untuck her black trousers from her purple socks.

‘I thought you were seeing Ivan tonight?’

‘Yeah, so did he. But Hanna had an emergency at work, so I had to stay late.’

‘Again?’ Tove lamented. She took a serious interest in the state of Bell’s love life, which she proclaimed as being ‘dire’. ‘That’s how many times you’ve blown him out now?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘More times than you’ve seen him, for sure.’

‘Well, it couldn’t be avoided this time.’

‘And why couldn’t Max deal with it?’

‘Because he’s pitching for a big deal with a client, and he’s got some fancy dinner set up for tonight.’

‘So yet again, you have to pick up the pieces?’ Tove sighed, tutting. ‘Honestly, I don’t know how you think you can ever get your life back on track when you’re constantly putting yourself second.’

Bell met Kris’s eyes as she took a swig of her beer. They both knew Tove meant well; it was just that she had the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

‘So, what made your day so tough, then?’ Kris asked, rescuing her as he moved about their kitchenette. The apartment was largely open-plan, with an old eighties pine kitchen spread against the back wall and delineated from the sofas and table area by a marble-effect linoleum counter.

‘Well, if I tell you, do you promise to keep it to yourself?’

It was a rhetorical question to one of her friends, and Kris gave one of his easy shrugs in reply. He wasn’t big on rumour and innuendo; he’d been on the wrong end of it too many times. Tove dramatically drew a cross above her heart, and then kissed her fingers.

Bell rested her elbows on her knees, as though an approximation of the lotus position was going to give her any more peace. Her topknot flopped limply to one side of her head, but she ignored it. ‘So, I took a phone call today –’

Instantly Tove began clapping and kicking out her long legs. ‘Yes! Yes! I knew you could do it! Didn’t I say?’