I was desperate for a delay to give me time to collect my thoughts but was through immigration in record time and my suitcase was one of the first off the carousel. I extended the handle and dragged it towards the Nothing to Declare lane. The bag was a bulky, difficult thing that kept twisting on its wheels. As I approached the exit gate, I lost my nerve and hovered behind the sliding doors. I looked each time they opened, but I couldn’t see Joe in the arrivals hall. Perhaps he was in a different terminal or perhaps I’d got the wrong airport. Such mistakes happened. Fitz knew someone who had once inadvertently bought a ticket for Birmingham, Alabama, when she only meant to go to the West Midlands.

The doors slid open again. The family from the plane went through and a cheer went up from the relatives who had come to meet them. The doors closed. I tightened my fingers around the handle of the suitcase. The doors opened and closed; opened and closed. Each time I leaned forward and looked, each time Joe wasn’t there. I couldn’t stay here forever. Still I hesitated. The doors slid open and this time a man with tanned skin and short, silver hair standing on the far side of the barrier, caught my eye and raised his hand. He waved vigorously. I looked over my shoulder, assuming he was trying to catch the attention of someone behind me, but he wasn’t. He was waving at me.

Was it Joe? No! Oh God, it was! I’d been looking for the young man I used to know, not an older, sensible looking man wearing a dusty blue golfing shirt tucked into a pair of jeans. The shock unfooted me. Had he been watching each time the doors opened? Had he seen my eyes scanning the crowd, slipping over him without any hint of recognition? Embarrassment heated my cheeks. What should I say? Should I apologise? No, no. I’d blame my eyes. I’d say I was tired. Shit.

‘Come on,’ I murmured to the suitcase, and I went forwards.

Joe wasn’t smiling as we walked towards one another. His expression was one I recognised from my work, that of a parent called in to school because their child had misbehaved, a parent who didn’t want to be there, who’d rather be at the dentist’s or unblocking the drains or anything. I was almost sick with nerves myself.