He was normal, I realised. Hyper-normal. He had impeccable manners and impeccable teeth and he looked like he belonged on a postcard, sitting outside a cafe in Paris or standing on a bluff in San Francisco or walking down a cobblestone street in Prague. So normal he was hardly real, a hologram from some other world who’d ended up in mine by mistake. He listened to me, properly, eyes on me, or half closed, thoughtful, nodding as I spoke, even if I was just telling him how Lina and I used to get dressed up to watch The OC together.

When the pub closed I was disappointed and maybe he was too.

‘Where do you live?’ he asked, as we stepped out onto the street.

‘Newtown.’

He put his hands in his pockets. ‘Can I get you a cab?’

I shook my head. ‘I like to walk.’

He didn’t say anything, and the awkwardness crept back, the silence becoming uncomfortable. ‘I haven’t been sleeping very well lately,’ I said, filling it. ‘Walking helps.’

He looked at me thoughtfully, the same way he had been all night. ‘Are you sure? It’s not very safe.’

‘I’m careful,’ I said. I was always careful. ‘It’s fine. I promise.’

He opened his mouth as though to argue, stopped. ‘Okay.’

I wrapped my hoodie tighter around myself. It was cold, and the air was pulling my eyes wide open, sobering me up. The streets were too quiet for a Friday night, like the sudden onset of winter had driven everyone inside. I needed to move, to keep warm.

‘Where do you live?’ I asked. ‘I’ll walk you home.’ I hoped it didn’t sound like something it wasn’t.

Tom smiled, turning, and we started walking down towards the water. I could smell the harbour—salty and alive.

‘You don’t sleep?’

‘Not a lot. A few hours here and there, I guess.’ I exhaled. ‘Not enough.’

‘Has that been going on for long?’

I glanced over at him. He was looking straight ahead. ‘Are you doctoring me?’

‘No.’ He laughed. ‘Well, a bit.’

‘It happens sometimes.’ Lina’s face flickered in front of me. ‘It’ll pass.’ It had to.

‘Are you sure?’

I nodded. ‘I’m okay. Like I said, walking helps. It wears me out.’

He stopped, throwing me for a second. ‘This is me.’

I turned and found myself facing the glass entrance of a very new-looking apartment building. If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn it was a hotel. I could see the water at the end of the street. ‘Geez, what a dump,’ I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He grinned, letting me. ‘It’s not that bad.’

I thought of the cat-piss house, the peeling paint. ‘You’ve got no idea.’

‘I have some idea.’

‘Is this like a doctor thing?’ I asked.

He shrugged. ‘Is that more or less objectionable than a family thing?’