‘They’re doing retro cocktails. I have a jug of illusions.’

I grimaced. ‘Really?’

‘Tastes like being fourteen again.’ Lina laughed. ‘I can’t believe Matt’s turning thirty. I can’t believe I’m dating a thirty-year-old.’

I hadn’t seen her so drunk in months.

‘I can’t believe I bought a fucking house with a fucking thirty-year-old.’ She laughed again. ‘I own a fucking house, Cait. Can you believe that?’

I laughed too. ‘Townhouse, remember?’

‘God. That’s even worse!’

We reached the back of the courtyard and a long table scattered with drinks and crushed cigarette packets and the remnants of several bowls of chips. Lina let go of my arm and slid into a seat. She pulled an empty glass out of a small stack in the middle of the table, placed it next to another one and filled them both with something green and toxic-looking. ‘Here,’ she said, handing me the fresh one. ‘You’ve got to catch up.’

I took it, studying the contents.

‘How come you’re so late anyway?’

I shrugged. ‘One of those days, that’s all.’

She raised an eyebrow, then her glass. ‘Cheers, big ears.’ I touched my glass to hers, then took a sip. Toxic was right. ‘I was worried you weren’t coming.’

‘Of course I was coming. It’s Matt’s birthday.’ I nearly hadn’t. I’d taken ages to get ready—everything had been weirdly slow. ‘Where is he, anyway?’

She glanced around, unconcerned. ‘Dancing. I don’t know.’

I looked at her. I could tell her now. She was drunk enough that she wouldn’t care, might not even remember tomorrow. I’d woken up in the morning and decided I had to tell her tonight. It had been three weeks of coffees cut short and phone calls full of awkward silences as the words caught in my throat. I had to tell her.

I didn’t know why I hadn’t yet. She probably wouldn’t care. She had Matt, a house, a whole world I couldn’t keep up with. She wouldn’t care.

For some reason, though, the thought made me nauseous. I didn’t want to ruin her night, didn’t want to upset her. But if she didn’t care at all, then …

I put the drink to my lips, downed half of it in one go.

‘There we go,’ Lina said.

I’m going to New York. I bought a ticket.

That simple. She was drunk, it wouldn’t matter. She wouldn’t care. She’d be excited for me, like I was excited.

I was excited.

When I thought about it my insides got all hot and I wanted to tell everyone, yell it from rooftops and start planning, properly, but I hadn’t told anyone yet. Just in case.

I finished my drink, put the glass down with a flourish. Lina grinned, pleased, picked up the jug and refilled it.