‘Hey! Patrick!’ I exclaimed. ‘I wondered when I’d see you again!’ I’d kept an eye out for him, wondering if he’d be around to reminisce about Yak Yak. I’d liked that. I’d surprised myself with how much I’d liked talking with somebody who thought I was as carefree and funny as I had been at twelve years old. The future was so uncertain but the past never changed, and that was a comfort. I looked towards the barista. ‘I’m just getting my spirulina fix for the day.’

‘Because what’s a day without an unpronounceable smoothie add-on?’ Patrick chuckled.

I grinned back, my body pumped full of endorphins after the exercise and feeling … not happy, exactly, but certainly flushed with something other than doom, at least temporarily. Bootcamp had been the only anchor to my day since I’d started. I’d get up, go straight there, and for one glorious hour think of nothing. Back at home I’d stare at the TV paying no attention to what I was watching, the dog in my lap and Mum and Dad, who continued to stay despite me suggesting they didn’t have to, pretending not to be worried. ‘Exactly. I actually had to point at the board just to order and then I asked Google how to say it afterwards. I only told you about it so I could practise.’

He leaned against the counter and tilted his chin up at the guy serving.

‘All right, mate, I’ll take a Coco Loco, please – and I’ll pay for the lady’s.’

He pulled a card from inside his body warmer and slid it away from him towards the server.

‘You’re kind,’ I said. ‘But I object to being called a lady.’

‘Annie Wiig ain’t a lady?’ His sandy waves were slick with sweat, swept off his face by a thin elastic headband like footballers wear, and he hadn’t shaved yet, a dance of dark blond stubble gathered across his chin. I wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light, but there might have been the tiniest bit of red in there too. His green eyes glimmered brightly. I think it must have been the Norwegian in me that was at home with his height and his fairness, his breadth.

‘Oppressive word,’ I said. ‘Lady. So full of expectations. I’m in a season of liberation as it happens.’ I looked to my hands in front of me as I said it, betraying the jocular tone of my voice by tapping my fingers nervously. I was prepared to tell him about the break-up this time, if he asked. I still felt like shit, obviously, but I wanted to. I just knew he’d say the right things.

‘Ahhhh,’ he said, light-heartedly. ‘There she is. That’s the Annie Wiig I remember. Always making her own rules.’