After a while they got into a habit of having lunch together every Thursday in between classes. It became her favourite part of the week. Soon she was looking for him every day, breathing a subconscious sigh of relief when she spotted him coming towards her through the crowds or making a beeline for her in the lecture theatre. In the evenings, whenever they saw each other out in a student bar or club, he always gave her a nod or a wave – he was never rude to her – but they rarely spoke. They had two completely separate lives, sets of friends and university experiences, that only converged at certain times of the week.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to Jack from the start. Everyone was attracted to Jack and they definitely sparked off each other. So perhaps she had a tiny crush on him. But Angie knew that she wasn’t Jack’s type. This became more obvious with each new girl she saw him with, and there was no point in fantasising that she was. Pining after him would only cause her a heartbreak that she didn’t need in her life. She was at university for one reason only, and that was to gain a first-class degree and get a job in a top law firm.

She was driven even at eighteen, after years of her mother drilling it into her that women had to work harder than men to be a success. Patricia had raised Angie on her own and had worked hard to make sure that Angie had all the opportunities in life that she hadn’t, and Angie didn’t take that for granted. She didn’t want the distraction of a stomped-on heart or the awkwardness of her friendship with Jack being ruined over a drunken fumble on a night out. So, she made the decision to enjoy their friendship for what it was and stop daydreaming about anything more. After a while she started going out with another, more straightforward boy, and her coffees and lunches with Jack eventually petered out. When they graduated, they lost touch completely.

She assumed that she would never see Jack again and had almost forgotten all about him when she bumped into him by chance, several years later. She was working as a trainee solicitor at a firm in central London. One morning she was ordering her usual black coffee on the way into the office, her mind preoccupied with the many things she had to do, when she heard a familiar voice.

‘Is that you, Ange?’

Her stomach lurched. She turned around and there he was, Jack the jock, as she used to call him teasingly, looking every inch as devastatingly handsome as he had always done.

‘Christ, do you not age at all?’ she replied in delight, hugging him warmly before moving aside to let the other people in the queue get to the counter. She waited while Jack ordered his own coffee and then he stepped aside too and observed her with a look of relief.