‘I’ll always remember the first night we kissed. I felt like a teenager, I couldn’t sleep for thinking about the girl from the street rally with the “mousing” sign.’

Minnie and Greg were looking directly into each other’s eyes now. Reminding each other of these good memories felt like playing a favourite song on a worn-out record player before closing the lid.

‘Now you say goodbye without regret and without bitterness. Perhaps in time you can be friends,’ Clive said, wiping the crumbs from his mouth with both hands. ‘Anyone for more toast? This Waitrose granary loaf is delightfully nutty.’

‘Goodbye Greg,’ said Minnie.

‘Goodbye Minnie,’ said Greg. ‘ I can still help you move if you need me to?’

‘It’s OK, I’ll get my dad to help.’

Minnie stood up, hugged Greg, hugged Clive and then left. It had stopped raining outside. On the doorstep she paused, confused by what had just happened. She hadn’t gone there tonight to break up with Greg, but she’d felt this shift inside her. It was as though Ian’s speech had awoken her inner romantic, a voice she’d been silencing for years. She wanted to be with someone who spoke about her the way Ian spoke about Leila, and she definitely didn’t want to be anyone’s 70 per cent.

Lucy Donohue’s column flashed into her mind. Dumping Greg had nothing to do with that column. The fact that Quinn was now single was irrelevant; this was about Greg not being her Sonic the Hedgehog, or whatever Ian’s analogy was.

As she neared home she got a text from Greg.

‘Did we just consciously uncouple?’

She smiled. ‘I think so,’ she replied.

‘Am I living with male ginger Oprah?’

Minnie laughed out loud. Though she knew it was the right decision, she might miss his jokes. Greg was a jigsaw piece she’d been trying to make fit and the effort of forcing it felt like wearing a corset, pressuring her to conform to its shape. Now she had no Greg and soon she might have no Leila.

‘Player one,’ she whispered to herself as she unlocked her front door.

New Year’s Eve 2003

There was going to be a party at the youth club on Castlehaven Road up in Camden; some of Quinn’s mates from school were going. It would probably be lame, but it was the first New Year’s Eve party not hosted by someone’s parents.

Matt Dingle said he was bringing vodka, Deepak Patel said some of the grammar school girls who played netball were going; his mate Shiv went out with one of them and he said they were definitely, a hundred per cent going to be there. Quinn wanted to go, not necessarily to meet girls but just to get out of the house, to hear noise and hang out with his friends.