‘I wanted to talk to you,’ Alex begins, in a low voice, changing the subject. ‘I’m really sorry if I put you on the spot the other week, asking you about Emma.’

‘It’s fine,’ I say, putting my glasses back on and tucking my hair behind my ears.

‘Look.’ Alex points over my shoulder. ‘There’s our café.’

I turn, carefully (I don’t want to fall out of the boat) and see we’ve reached Little Venice, and I can see the little pavement café where we stopped for coffee after our first walk together. It’s become a bit of a routine for us now, to end there after our walks and have a flat white and a chocolate brownie. I try to ignore the way it makes my toes go all curly inside my Converse that he called it our café.

‘Anyway,’ he carries on, and I turn around to look at him again. ‘I just wanted you to know that I really appreciated you listening. And I’ve broken things off – well, not that it was a thing, really, but you know what I mean – with Emma.’ His voice is low.

‘How did she take it?’ I ask. No wonder the house has felt a bit weird.

‘Fine.’ He clears his throat. ‘Well, fine-ish.’

‘Is that why she’s been a bit low-profile?’

He nods, and picks at a loose thread on his jeans, pulling it until it snaps and then twisting it absent-mindedly between his fingers. ‘She went back to stay with her parents.’

‘God.’ I try and think when I saw her last. ‘I knew she was going away but hadn’t realised where to.’

‘Yeah.’

A boat passes us, and we all laugh at two spaniels wearing doggy life jackets who are sitting on the table, their owners holding hands and steering the boat together.

‘D’you want a go, Jess?’ Becky motions to the tiller. Or is it the rudder? Whatever.

I shake my head. ‘I think the fact I don’t know if it’s a tiller or a rudder is probably a good reason to stay where I am.’

‘Alex?’ Becky asks.

‘Go on, then.’ He grins at me and they perform a slightly dodgy manoeuvre that makes the boat wobble alarmingly.

‘Next stop—’ he shades his eyes and peers ahead ‘— The Pirate Castle.’

‘The Pirate Castle? As in an actual castle?’ I ask.

‘Nope.’ He laughs. ‘It’s actually a charity that do stuff on boats with kids from disadvantaged backgrounds.’

‘How do you know so much about it?’ We sail past and there’s a group of kids in life jackets climbing onto a boat.

‘The company I used to work for did some fundraising for them.’

‘So they weren’t just about corporate greed?’ I tease him.

‘No, they did some good stuff.’ He pushes his hair back from his face. ‘I mean there was a fair old amount of corporate crap in there as well.’