Back home, hours later, dead on my feet and bleary-eyed, I’m in the kitchen ripping off the plastic on a microwave meal for two, tipping it onto a plate, when Rob comes in with a couple of dirty mugs.

‘That crap’s no good for you, man,’ he says. He shoves the mugs in the dishwasher and turns to look at me. ‘You need some decent food inside you when you’re working those long shifts. Believe me, I know.’

‘It’s better than Becky’s Cock Soup,’ I say.

There are still about fifteen packets of the stuff in the cupboard. It’s become a standing joke. We’ve tried adding vegetables, throwing in noodles, even mixing it with a tin of sweetcorn. It’s still absolutely disgusting, but come the week before payday, we’re not too proud to give it another go.

The microwave curry tastes pretty grim. The chicken’s somehow spongy and rubbery, and the rice has dried up in parts and is rock hard. But I’m exhausted and starving hungry and there’s nothing else to eat, so it’ll have to do. Once I’ve had a sleep I’ll nip out and get some shopping.

‘You working tonight?’ I say, looking at Rob.

‘Night off. Thought I might go and see that new Marvel film at the cinema if you fancy it.’

‘I’d love to, but I can guarantee you that within five minutes of the opening credits, I’d be fast asleep. I feel like I haven’t stopped for days.’

‘I’ve been meaning to ask what the story is. You sort things out with that Alice lassie?’ He grins. ‘Wee bit awkward getting home to find your ex standing in the kitchen.’

‘Just a bit.’ I nod. ‘Anyway, I’ve cleared the air with her, at least.’

‘So you’re just friends now?’ Rob asks.

‘Well, as much as you can ever be. Civil, I think, is probably as good as we’re going to get. She’s still not over me giving up law for nursing, no matter how much she’s tried to convince herself it didn’t matter.’

‘Aye,’ says Rob, sagely. ‘Not easy to get your head round something like that. My ex-wife couldn’t cope with my long hours working in the restaurant. Not many can. It’s a killer, but I couldn’t give it up.’

‘Did she give you an ultimatum?’ I ask, looking up with interest. I had no idea he’d been married. I don’t know much about him at all, really. Rob doesn’t talk about himself much, although I’ve found him chatting away to Becky a few times in the kitchen when I’ve got in from work. But Becky’s like that – she could strike up a conversation in a room full of statues. Probably has, knowing her.