Ellen winced but tried to pass it off as a winning smile. ‘Make sure you recycle it, I guess?’

‘Yeah.’ Lee shifted the box on his hip.

She gestured towards the stairs. ‘I’d better be getting back.’

‘Of course,’ Lee said. He’d met Felicia.

‘You coming?’

‘Ah, right. In fact, I think I might take the lift.’ He pointed, unnecessarily, at the lift. ‘Because of the box.’

‘Right. Well. See you around, then.’

‘Yes.’

Once inside the stairwell, she had put her face in her hands.

But an hour later, he’d WhatsApped her.

Sorry for box/recycling chat

Flustered by prospect of new office toaster

Then, a short while later, another message.

Do you fancy a drink on Sat?

Her breath had caught slightly as she’d read the last message. She’d replied on the way back to Kayleigh’s.

How many loaves have you toasted so far?

Yes, drink on Sat sounds good

They’d met at a pub on Columbia Road. He had been earnest and nervous, and at first Ellen had been a little arch. But they’d both relaxed into the situation and they’d stayed at a corner table until the closing bell and then got an Uber back to his small house share in Clapton. He’d even kissed her in the taxi. Ellen wouldn’t have thought he had it in him.

She’d had to leave early on Sunday morning, as Lee was cycling to Canterbury with a group called The Wheely Good Guys. As she climbed over his bike in the hallway, he’d legged it down the stairs in a Lycra all-in-one and said, slightly out of breath, that he wouldn’t have his phone all day, but promised he’d text her when he got home.

She’d smirked, rolled her eyes, and hoped that he would.

It was on the walk to the Overground that she’d opened Jack’s messages.

Hey ellen hope alls good with you :)

ben has messaged me on FaceBook

he wants to meet in a pub near rokeby close next week

says he has found some information about the MSN messages

he wants to apologies to you

The first thing she’d noticed at the time – blanking on the main issue – was that he’d misspelt ‘apologize’. She checked herself, feeling mean, and reread the text. Feeling slightly dazed by the bright sunshine and families trooping off to Hackney Marshes, she’d dashed off a response.

Hey jack, am well ta – how’s earlsfield?

Um yeah of course, weird that he messaged you, but sounds intriguing I suppose

Let me know details when you have them x

And then, all week, she’d allowed herself to consider what the message really meant. It was strange that it had come from Ben, via Jack: why not from Ben, via Alexa? Ellen missed her. They weren’t used to this extended separation.