‘We can’t do it again.’ I extract myself from underneath him and stand up. I need him to agree, I need him to say it. I can’t be the one making all the decisions.

‘Okay,’ he says, nodding.

‘So we’re agreed,’ I say.

‘Shake on it,’ he says, and when I put my hand in his to shake, he pulls me down towards him, and I let him, and then we’re kissing again.

I’m lying on top of him on the couch, my legs between his, my hands in his hair, his hands sliding up underneath the back of my top, slipping around towards the front, when I hear a door open. My brain is slow in comprehending, because it was finally blissed-out and silent, so I don’t react quickly enough.

Lauren flicks on the light as she walks in the room, and shrieks. ‘Oh my god,’ she says. Then she bends over, laughing. ‘Oh my god, Brooke!’ She is delighted.

Jesse and I have leaped apart, and now we’re both standing up. His hair is askew, his T-shirt rumpled and hitched up oddly on one side.

‘Lauren!’ I say, as if she’s done something wrong. ‘Shhhh! Don’t wake up Mum.’

‘But Mum would love to know. Finally some gossip about little baby Brooke.’

She’s drunk, but only slightly. Enough to be annoying.

‘What gossip?’ Mum says, appearing in the doorway like a demon spirit. She’s wearing a loose T-shirt and underwear almost big enough to be considered shorts but definitely still underwear.

‘Mum! Pants!’ I say and Jesse quickly turns away. ‘And a bra, please!’

‘Sorry honey, but this is my house, and I don’t normally expect to find strange men in it in the middle of the night,’ she says.

‘It’s Jesse, not a strange man. He was just helping me with my story,’ I say, glaring at Lauren.

She mimes locking her lips and throwing away the key, which is entirely unhelpful when Mum can see what she’s doing.

‘I should go,’ Jesse says. He still hasn’t turned around. ‘Bye, everyone.’

He brushes Minty’s fur off his jeans, grabs his phone and glasses, and walks towards the front door. I go with him. We agree on a time he’ll pick me up tomorrow morning to drive home, and there’s a lull where it feels like we should hug, or say something significant, or kiss again but instead he lightly touches my shoulder and turns and walks down the steps.

‘Wait,’ I say. I can’t leave it like this. I won’t be able to sleep, I won’t be able to exist. I need to push it one direction or the other, to make it real or make it nothing, to feel like I have it safely in check and under control.

He looks back at me.