‘Your hands are bloody freezing,’ he says, pulling back and laughing.

‘I think maybe we should go home,’ I say. And I take his hand, and we walk back through the darkness, past the cinnamon-scented coffee stall, and through the shortcut past the Dog and Ferret, where they’re playing ‘Last Christmas’ on the speakers and we hear a blast of it when someone pushes the door open. And he looks at me and swings my hand for a second, and smiles.

Epilogue: Jess

Epilogue

Jess

One Year Later

‘You sure you want to give up the room?’ Becky says, still dressed in her work clothes, which look incongruous because she’s got a Santa hat balanced on the top of her hair. The kitchen’s covered in paper chains, which I can’t stop making. I found a kit in the craft shop round the corner, and it’s very therapeutic. Alex said earlier that he’s worried that if anyone stands still for too long they’ll be decorated with baubles and strung up with Christmas lights. I can’t help it. We’ve been together a year, and I’m so revoltingly happy that I even make myself slightly queasy sometimes. Nanna Beth’s doing really well. She’s completely Team Alex – in fact she loves him to bits, probably because she’s got her very own male nurse to harass. And even my mother – grudgingly, because she still secretly thinks James was a better bet – has conceded that Alex and I seem very happy together.

‘Yes. I definitely want to give up the room,’ I say. If someone takes it over and has as good an introduction to London as I’ve had, they’ll be lucky. I look around the kitchen, which is still as tumbledown and dilapidated as it always was. I’ve loved living at Albany Road, but it’s time to move on.

‘We could put up with a couple if it was you two, I reckon,’ she says, looking across at Rob. He nods. I look at Alex fleetingly. There’s something in the air. I’ve suspected for a while that maybe she and Rob are more than just friends, but they still haven’t gone public, and I’m not going to be the one to push her to admit to anything if she’s not ready – I mean, it took us long enough. But if they’re just good friends, they’re very good friends. And I love watching the way they wind each other up, and the way they spend hours in the kitchen cooking Sunday roasts. They’re like the parents of the house.

‘Well we’re going to have two rooms to fill, then,’ Becky says, looking at Rob.

‘Two?’ I frown.

‘Oh, Emma’s moving out in January – didn’t I tell you? She’s off to manage the entertainments section on a cruise ship.’