Seven thirty. Who was she kidding? Clearly she was going to go and meet him. She walked up the path to the ponds with a sinking feeling. Testing herself like that made her realise how dependent she’d become on this weekly dose of happiness. She looked around for him; he was usually here by seven thirty. What if he didn’t come this week? What if he hadn’t come, and she hadn’t come, and he wouldn’t even have known she hadn’t come, so her stupid test would have been pointless.

‘Hey.’ She felt a hand on her elbow, a bolt of electricity.

She turned to see him looking down at her with a dimpled smile. Her blood pumped faster through her veins – an addict getting her fix.

‘I thought maybe you weren’t coming,’ she said, locking eyes with him.

‘Why wouldn’t I come?’ he said, staring right back.

They swam as usual, dried off and got dressed. Sometimes, when they dried off on the bank, she thought she saw him glancing at her legs beneath the towel. If she saw him looking over at her, he’d immediately turn his gaze and then she wondered if she had imagined it.

As they walked towards Barney’s breakfast van together, Minnie towel-dried her hair.

‘So, how’s your week been?’ he asked.

‘Good. I got the keys to my new place in Willesden. I’m moving in this afternoon.’

‘No more ticking clocks, or I could come and hang some in your new place, make it feel more like home?’

He gave her a lopsided grin.

‘No thank you. I am looking forward to some blissful tick-free sleep.’ She paused. ‘You could help me move a few boxes in though – if you don’t have plans?’

What was she doing? She was breaking the unwritten rule; she was smashing the bell jar, breaking the bubble. Their friendship only worked on Hampstead Heath, a flat move was uncharted territory. He turned his head sideways to look at her, a questioning expression in his eyes. She could tell he was thinking it too. It sounded like such an innocuous request, one friend asking another to help them move. They both knew it wasn’t.

‘Are you sure you’d want me to help?’ he asked, his voice quiet and serious. ‘I’d probably be more of a hindrance.’

He was trying to get out of it. She was stupid to ask. Why would he want to help her move house?

‘Forget I asked,’ she said, giving him an overly cheerful smile, crushing her cheeks into tight baby fists. ‘Clearly not how anyone wants to spend their Sunday afternoon.’ She skipped forward to get ahead of him; she didn’t want him to see her look disappointed. ‘Right, whose turn is it to buy the baps? I think it might be yours, my friend.’