I was scheduled on a 7 a.m. flight from London City Airport that got into Antwerp at just after 7 a.m., given the one-hour time difference. The plan was twenty-four hours in the city, with a meet-and-greet with the team at the lab, a group lunch, and then an evening of playing tourist before hopping back on an 8 a.m. flight the next morning, ready to give Chen my verdict.

Let’s talk when you get back, Patrick texted as I waited to take off, after I’d wished him a good morning.

Okay, I’d replied, not really knowing what else to say. Adzo had counselled me through sitting with my emotions instead of trying to fix everything, which had been helpful.

‘Don’t rush into smoothing it all over until you’re sure of what you want,’ she’d said. ‘After so much intense time together, maybe a few days apart is just the medicine. He’ll be here when you get back.’

‘Yeah,’ I’d agreed, but part of me missed him already. Being in an airport was less fun alone than with him, and obviously the last time I’d flown was with him and his buckets of enthusiasm. I kept thinking about him, and about everything that had happened when we were away. I hadn’t seen him since the corner shop, three days ago. He said he needed to take this time to sort out his feelings. He didn’t want to say something he might regret, he’d explained. I felt like I was being punished.

I don’t like fighting, I texted back.

Same, he said, followed by a row of kisses that could either be read as earnest, or putting a full stop to the interaction. I sent a row of kisses back and turned off my phone for take-off.

‘Annie!’

I waltzed through customs in the easiest disembarkation I’d ever had to be met by a tall, blue-eyed man waving through the small crowd. I recognized Jules immediately from our Zoom calls, but in real life and higher definition I could see what Adzo had meant about the movie-star good looks that translated better in real life. He was stunning.

He reached out a massive hand and I shook it.

‘It’s wonderful to meet you in person,’ he said, and his English was perfect. He had a tiny accent that reminded me of Sean Connery’s. ‘How was your flight?’

He gallantly took my overnight bag, despite my protestations, and we walked into the multi-storey car park as I told him how easy it had been to get from my house to the airport, and how incredible it was to me that in just over an hour I was there, ready to be wowed.

‘Do you know much about the city?’ he enquired.

‘Is it bad if I say no …?’ I asked sheepishly.