‘I swear I’d remember if I’d had this … passionate relationship with a girl from another school, right? I don’t even remember being on MSN that much.’ Ben sounded rather hurt.

‘But that was your name,’ Jack said after a second or so, also in a low voice.

Ben looked a little taken aback.

‘Your MSN name – the Romeo name.’

‘Well,’ Ben admitted, a little defensively. ‘Yeah, it was.’ He ran one hand through his hair, wearily. ‘But I honestly don’t remember any of the rest of it.’

Jack shrugged. ‘Maybe it’s a mistake.’

Ben shrugged too. He looked downcast. There was a silence during which Jack tried to ensure he didn’t breathe too loudly. Perhaps what Ben needed was a distraction.

‘So … mate’ – no matter which way Jack said it, it never came out quite right – ‘what’s your job?’ He’d overheard the answer to this already, but could pretend he hadn’t.

Ben looked up at him and almost smiled. ‘I work for a charity.’ He was picking violently at a stain on his jeans.

‘Sometimes Green Genie gives spare food to charity,’ Jack said, cheerfully.

‘What’s that?’ Ben sounded rather unenthusiastic.

‘My job. At Green Genie. We’re a company that delivers organic vegetables. In boxes.’ He’d told Ben all about this at the window before, but he must have forgotten.

‘Oh, yeah, you said.’ Ben massaged his chin. He looked preoccupied. ‘I’ve seen the adverts on the Tube.’

‘Right,’ Jack said, brightly. That was right. He’d been excited the first time he’d seen a Green Genie advert on a Tube carriage. He’d taken a picture of it to show his mum and Maisie, although at the last moment someone had half walked into the frame to cling on to the pole that ran above it. He’d felt awkward taking another one, in case they’d thought he was trying to take a picture of them. So he’d sent the one that had their head in it, slightly obscuring the Green Genie logo of the dancing carrot. Still, his mum had been impressed and had sent back emojis: the arm flexing and a carrot. His mum was funny with emojis.

‘I work in customer services, but I occasionally help on the social media,’ Jack rambled on. ‘Doing the Twitter and stuff.’

‘Nice,’ Ben smiled a little sadly. ‘That sounds fun.’

A breeze came through the skylight again; goosebumps stood up on Jack’s arms. He wanted to say something else that would get Ben talking. ‘God, I miss beer gardens,’ he tried.

Ben gazed at him curiously for a beat or so. Eventually, he laughed. ‘It’s, like, eleven o’clock in the morning.’