He looked at the etched glad of his whisky tumbler, felt its comforting weight between his hands. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said. Definitely not at the moment. Finding a new life partner wasn’t exactly a breeze when every time you came into contact with new people your knees turned to jelly and you wanted to vomit.

‘Do you get lonely? I do… Even though I can’t envision anyone else in my life, I find I don’t like having no one.’

Brody exhaled. Until Anna had started calling him, he hadn’t even considered whether he was lonely or not, but now he wondered. Was he?

He thought about how sometimes he’d come into his study in the evenings and stare at the phone lying on the desk, about the hollow sensation that followed when it stayed blank and silent, and he couldn’t share the things he’d stored away to tell her that day.

But maybe it wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to have only one person in the whole world to share things with, were you? Did that mean he was lonely?

‘Maybe I do… Occasionally. But I’m not sure marriage is the solution. I wasn’t a brilliant husband the first time around.’

‘It wasn’t happy then, your marriage?’

‘At first it was,’ he said. ‘But then… things happen… Life happens… And sometimes it changes you as a couple. Sometimes you just don’t fit together the way you used to afterwards. Sometimes you just can’t work through it.’

Anna let out a heavy breath. ‘I don’t know whether that’s easier or harder,’ she said. ‘Losing them when it’s great or losing them when it’s falling apart and you never have that chance to put it back together again.’

Losing them… He was glad she’d phrased it that way, because it meant he didn’t have to lie to her about Katri. ‘I don’t know either,’ he said, staring out the window. There were no streetlights this far out into the countryside, no light on in the yard, and the blackness of the night was complete. ‘But the past is the past. I suppose all you can do is try to move forward, work out what to do with the rest of your life.’

‘Everyone seems to think that enough time will pass and suddenly it’ll be easy,’ she said. ‘As if there’s an expiry date on love.’

‘For some people there is,’ he said, staring grimly into the dancing flames in his fireplace. ‘Maybe you were just very lucky.’ He knocked back another slug of whisky, enough this time to scald the back of his throat. ‘And maybe, if you do want to have another relationship again someday, you should just admit you need a bit more time. No one’s going to judge you for that.’

‘It doesn’t always feel that way,’ she replied mournfully. ‘Especially not when there are… possibilities… out there, should I choose to pursue them.’

‘Possibilities?’ he echoed, his voice low and rough.