‘Hi, Jack.’ Ellen dislodged a piece of soggy beer mat that had become attached to the pad of her right index finger. ‘I’m relieved to see you – I was worried it was just going to be me and Ben.’

Jack looked around, as if expecting Ben to materialize at any second.

‘How are you?’ she added.

‘Yeah, um, good?’ Jack shuffled.

‘How’s Earlsfield?’

‘Yeah, it’s OK,’ he shrugged, a little downcast. ‘How is – where are you staying?’

‘My work friend Kayleigh’s. It’s fine. Miss my own bed, though.’

He straightened up a little.

‘Are you going to get a drink?’

‘Right, yeah.’ He half-turned and then halted, turning back towards her, shoes squeaking on the stripped wooden floor. ‘Um. Would you like one?’

Ellen looked at her half-full glass of wine. ‘Go on, then. House white.’ Pre-empting a question that might send Jack into a tailspin, she added, ‘A small’s fine. Thanks.’

He padded towards the bar. It was a Wednesday evening, and the premises were lightly populated with student punters – one table was playing a board game – though there was no one else at the long wooden bar. Jack was served straight away. Ellen returned to the remnants of the beer mat. In the corner, one of the staff fiddled with the remote that controlled the speaker; for a second, a snatch of a forgettable indie song blared, before the speaker was quietened again.

Then – call it instinct – she glanced up and caught them: Alexa and Ben were walking through the front door. Ben pulled it open and gestured to Alexa to go in front of him. It was a casual but intimate gesture, and Ellen saw the way that Alexa lit up. They were together properly now, that private glance confirmed it. Ellen took a deep breath, just as Ben raised a palm in greeting. He looked a little reticent, but Ellen was more interested in Alexa, who was crossing the pub floor at a gallop. Ellen stood up, hearing her thighs squeak on the banquette, just in time to meet Alexa’s hug.

They both yelped hello at the same time. Alexa looked precise and perfect, in a white sleeveless button-down shirt and cropped navy trousers and sandals, toenails painted scarlet. Her jacket was slung over one arm. In the kerfuffle of embrace, she dropped it on the pub floor and Ellen bent at the same time as her to pick it up, and then they both laughed. At which point Ben appeared and, after a fractional pause, Ellen reached for him too.

‘Hi, Benjamin,’ she said, after they’d pulled apart, the hug short and functional.

He laughed nervously, and looked like he was about to say something. Except at this point, Jack appeared, holding his and Ellen’s drinks. He placed them on the table.