He laughed. ‘It’s not non-existent, you idiot.’

‘If you’re referring to Lyndon the trombonist, well, it transpires he doesn’t actually bat for my side, after all.’

‘You’re kidding!’ said Gareth.

‘Yep. Told me today in work. One of his New Year’s resolutions had been to be honest with everyone, so he finally fessed up. Didn’t go down too well with his parents, mind. They haven’t spoken to him for a month.’

‘Poor bloke.’ He took another shot and missed. ‘Bollocks. Right, so, what’m I gonna do then? About Lana.’

Judith sighed. ‘Oh, I dunno. I reckon you just need to spend more than five minutes together. Why don’t you drive up there tomorrow and see her. Take the bull by the horns,’ she laughed. ‘Not that Lana’s a bull.’

‘No, and she’s not a fan of surprises, neither,’ Gareth mumbled.

‘Likes a bit of romance though.’ Judith smiled back. ‘All girls like a bit of romance, Gar. Deep down.’ And she struck her cue forcefully against the white, which in turn smashed the red into a corner pocket, exploding a tiny cloud of chalk dust into the air.

The next day, he decided to take Judith’s advice and, getting on his bike straight after work, headed for Guildford.

The traffic wasn’t too bad and he arrived at her front door just after seven, with a box of orange Matchmakers and a smile. Ringing the doorbell, he felt nervous for some reason. So hyped up he was about seeing her that his heart sank a little when Gerard opened the door, eating a Pot Noodle.

‘She’s not in,’ he said.

‘Oh. Rehearsals, is it?’ asked Gareth.

‘I don’t think so,’ said Gerard sarcastically. ‘Otherwise I wouldn’t be standing here, would I?’

Gareth wanted to grab the Pot Noodle and pour it over Gerard’s supercilious head. ‘Umm, I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Why not?’

‘Because I’m stage managing the show? Evening rehearsals don’t start till next week,’ sighed Gerard. ‘You coming in or what?’ And without waiting for an answer he wandered off down the corridor, wolfing down his beef-flavoured rehydrated vegetables as he went and shutting the living-room door behind him.

Which Gareth took as a cue that he was meant to go upstairs and wait.

Lana’s bedroom was a mess. It didn’t surprise him and it made him smile. Gareth himself wasn’t the most domesticated, but seeing as he had nothing else to do, he thought he’d tidy up a bit whilst he waited. He made her bed and collected up the dirty mugs, emptied her ashtray and gathered the clothes that she’d dropped all over the room.

By the time he’d finished, an hour had passed and the room looked a lot better. But still no sign of Lana. So he lay on the bed and started flicking through one of her theatre books. He may as well have been reading Japanese, it made no sense to him whatever. He turned his attention to the black and white portable TV he’d found during the clear-up hidden under a coat. Switching it on, he fiddled with the tuner till he found a grainy repeat of Fawlty Towers.