‘Jeez, I need the toilet, but I’m scared to go,’ said Bev. ‘This place is like Buckingham Palace or something.’

‘Bev, if you need the toilet, go,’ said Leila. ‘It will be more embarrassing if you wet yourself.’

‘I won’t be able to go. My bladder seizes up in fancy places.’

Tara returned five minutes later with a tray of tea things and a gooseberry tart. She had a phone balanced beneath her chin.

‘Yes, Minnie and her friends popped in … her friend is helping me set up a blog page … no, I’m not overdoing it, darling. Here, Minnie was wanting to speak to you,’ Tara said, laying down the tray and passing the phone to Minnie. ‘It’s Quinn, checking up on me.’

Minnie felt the blood drain from her face; the knot in her stomach twisted uncomfortably. Of all the ways she wanted to hear from Quinn, this was not it. She shook her head weakly, but Tara kept thrusting the phone at her.

She finally took it and walked down the garden with it. If she had to talk to him, it wouldn’t be in front of everyone else.

‘Hi,’ she said.

‘Hi Minnie,’ said Quinn. He cleared his throat. ‘So you’ve been roped in to helping with the gardening?’

‘Something like that,’ Minnie said.

The line was silent for a moment, then Quinn spoke.

‘I’m sorry I haven’t called you, I know I should have. I’ve … none of this isn’t straightforward for me.’

His voice was awkward, embarrassed. Minnie squeezed an earlobe with her free hand, the pressure distracting her from the horrible realisation of what she had suspected.

‘Why are you being like this?’ she said quietly. ‘I thought … I don’t know what I thought.’

‘Minnie,’ his voice softened, ‘I … ’ He let out a sigh. ‘I can’t just jump into something like this. I’m not sure I can handle disappointing someone again, and I know I can’t be what you need me to be.’

‘How do you know?’ she said, her voice catching in her throat. ‘I don’t want you to be anything.’

There was silence on the line. She thought maybe he’d gone.

‘I’ve already disappointed you. I can hear it in your voice.’ They were both silent for a moment. Minnie stood shaking her head. ‘Please don’t think it’s you, Minnie, you’re so … ’ Quinn took a sharp inhale of breath. ‘Do you remember that penguin we heard about at the zoo, the one in Japan who was in love with the cardboard girl?’ His voice sounded hoarse, broken.

‘Yeah,’ Minnie said, closing her eyes.

‘Well, I’m the cardboard girl. I don’t have the capacity to be a living, breathing penguin. I think Lucy was right – in what she wrote about me.’