When we’d first started planning three months seemed like a lot—it was all we could afford—but the more I read the more it didn’t seem like long enough. Three months, and then we’d come back and I’d settle down at last. That was the plan.

‘Honestly,’ I said, ignoring the long silence, ‘now I think about it, what kind of wine drinker are you if you only drink a bottle a week? We get a case in at work every fortnight and it goes like that.’ Something twitched in my chest and I laughed it away. ‘There needs to be a wine club for the advertising industry. They could just ship it out by the barrel. Or skip the wine altogether and sell gin in IV bags.’

She tried to smile, but didn’t quite make it.

‘Are you all right, Leen?’ I asked finally.

She took a breath. A waiter walked past and put a bowl of green curry on our table, mentioned something about rice, but I wasn’t listening.

‘So,’ she said. Her voice was hesitant, and the thing in my chest twitched again. My expression must have changed, because she put a hand out, nearly knocking over my wineglass. Her fingers were cool on my forearm. ‘It’s fine, Cait. Everything is good. Like, really, really good.’

‘Okay.’ I blinked. Relaxed, but only a little.

‘It’s just …’

A bowl of rice and a stir-fry, steaming hot, appeared as though by magic.

‘Enjoy your meal,’ the waiter said.

Lina looked up at him and smiled. There was a hesitation in everything she was doing. She’d hate me for pointing it out, but in that moment she looked like her mum.

‘God, you’re scaring me, Leen. Is everything okay?’

She laughed. Half laughed. It was strange; everything was strange.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said when the waiter was gone. ‘It’s fine. It’s all good.’ But she looked like she was about to cry.

She picked up the rice and scooped some into her bowl, held the rice out for me to take. I did, putting it down without serving myself.

‘You’ll probably think so too.’

I frowned. ‘What?’

She took another breath, sat up. ‘So,’ she said again. ‘You know how the owners have been talking about putting our place on the market?’

I nodded, not sure where this was going. ‘Yeah?’

‘There’s been a shit-ton of construction in the area. Lots of new builds. Lots of investment. But it seems to have slowed, and Matt was talking to his uncle. He’s a mortgage broker.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘And he was saying that it might be a good time to buy, you know? Get in before things pick up again.’

‘Okay,’ I said like I agreed, like I knew what she was talking about.