‘Fucking hell.’ Paddy crunched down on a piece of ice and grimaced.

‘I mean, who dumps someone like that after four years – four months maybe, but four years … ?’ Georgie started in disbelief, stopping when she noticed that Paddy was giving her a hard, hard stare.

A silence descended. Paddy crunched on some more ice and winced.

‘Ouch. Filling.’

After a moment’s pause, he started putting together another gin and tonic.

‘Well, this settles it. They can call a substitute English teacher in – I’m definitely pulling a sickie tomorrow.’ He nodded to Anya. ‘You are too. We can watch TV all day.’

She gave him a weak smile. ‘Where am I going to live?’ she asked, in a small voice.

Georgie stroked her soggy, woolly forearm.

‘Did he – did he say when he was coming back?’

‘No, but he can’t stay at Duncan’s for long. He doesn’t have a spare room.’

Anya was certain that they were all, at that moment, remembering the housewarming at Duncan’s that she’d dragged them both to last year. It was a small, bachelor pad in a new-build block near Cowcaddens, on the fringe of Glasgow’s city centre. The single roll of toilet roll had run out in the first hour and Georgie had been locked out for forty minutes after she had gone out to buy more. During that time, Anya had been cornered by one of Duncan’s school friends, a leery, beery bloke in a too small rugby shirt, who was telling her about the last stag do he’d been on: ‘And the whole night ended with the groom tied to a lamppost and the best man in a cell in Prague!!’.

Meanwhile Paddy had been on the small balcony, wrapped up in four layers and chain-smoking an entire packet of Marlboro Lights. ‘My phone was in my middle layer and I didn’t feel it vibrating, G’.

Every spare surface in Duncan’s flat was covered with one of the following: an electric guitar; Rangers memorabilia; beer memorabilia; and by the end of the evening, a sticky layer of beer itself. They didn’t remember much about his sofa – apart from the bit when the leery, beery bloke passed out on it, growing increasingly ruddier with each wet snore – but they couldn’t imagine it was comfortable for Connor.

‘I’ll ask around. I’m sure someone has a room you can move into, just for a bit. Until you get things sorted,’ Paddy said as he got his phone out and frowned at the screen industriously.

‘I just can’t believe he’s left me,’ Anya whispered again, feeling the cold trickle of panic down her spine. ‘This feels like a nightmare.’

She saw Paddy and Georgie exchange another glance.

‘You’ve got us,’ Paddy said, with unusual tenderness. ‘And we’ll find you somewhere to live too –’