I got up, went to the bathroom. The sun was streaming through the windows and I felt warm, even though it was winter, even though Tom wasn’t there and it was too quiet. It was the first time I’d been in the apartment without him, but I could feel him, everywhere.

The kitchen was pristine, all white and light grey and shiny, a small stack of cookbooks on a shelf over the bench. A half-full plunger of black coffee sat on the benchtop, ice-cold but I found a mug and poured it out anyway, adding more sugar than it needed.

I found my bag and my tobacco and went out onto the balcony. The view was so amazing it churned my stomach. The whole city was spread out, a postcard but not a postcard.

Prague. We’d been talking about Prague. That’s why I’d dreamed of cobblestones.

Home of the oldest university in Central Europe, I’d said. He’d laughed, like he always did, pulled me closer, and then I’d dreamed of cobblestones.

I perched on the edge of the lounge and rolled a cigarette, smoking it and sipping my cold coffee and feeling the air moving in and out of my lungs. The whole day stretched out in front of me, the evening. Tom would finish at eight, maybe later, and I’d see him then, but that was hours away.

I finished the coffee and went inside, rinsing my cup and setting it by the sink before wandering back into the bedroom, the bathroom, showering. I felt like I was floating, my limbs soft, completely at home.

I found my phone, sent him a message. You didn’t wake me. I’m trapped in your apartment.

I tried, but you wouldn’t move. There’s a set of keys on the bench by the door. Use them when you need to go.

Okay. I can leave them in the letterbox.

Keep them. Another message. They’re for you anyway.

I felt something leap in my chest. Without thinking, I dialled his number. He picked up on the first ring.

‘I’m on a break,’ he said. ‘You’ve got three minutes.’

‘You’re giving me your keys?’

I heard him laugh. ‘Is that what you’re calling to ask?’

‘Yes.’

‘Caitlin.’ His voice was so kind. I smiled, wished he was here.

‘So are you?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Maybe?’

He laughed again. ‘Yeah, maybe.’ He paused. ‘How are you?’