‘Ah, my dad would be turning in his grave at that.’ I stop and point to the building opposite, and the famous doorway. ‘He took me here when I was little. He was a massive Beatles fan.’

Jess has her phone out and she’s taking a photo for Instagram (of course).

‘Oh look, there’s loads of pictures of a wall with writing on it somewhere round here.’ She shows me her phone, and under #abbeyroad on Instagram, there they are. I spin round and point to the wall behind us. ‘This one?’

‘Oh, that’s amazing.’ She bends down and starts taking photographs. I watch her, thinking about the first time my dad brought me here. He was a massive music fan. Not just the Beatles. He loved all kinds of music. When he died, Mum passed his entire vinyl collection on to me. It’s all still stacked on shelves back home in Kent, though – there’s so much of it it’d take up half my room in Notting Hill, and Alice wasn’t ever that keen on it. I dream of getting an old record player and having them all with me one day.

‘It wasn’t just the Beatles that recorded here,’ I say.

‘No?’ Jess says, straightening up.

‘Loads of others. Amy Winehouse, Oasis, Radio-head . . .’

‘Ooh, let’s cross over and have a look. We might see someone famous.’

We join a group of frozen-looking Japanese tourists who are taking photographs of the outside of the building. There’s a buzz of excitement when the door opens, but we all give a deflated sigh when a middle-aged bloke with a bomber jacket walks out.

‘You can take my photo if you like,’ he says, chuckling as he strides off towards his car.

Jess heads off out when we get home. I’m at the too-tired-to-sleep stage, and end up sitting up watching crap on television until I doze off. It’s half two in the morning when I wake up and stagger into the hallway to find Emma pulling off a pair of vertiginous heels and throwing them on the floor.

‘Hi,’ she says. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’ She arches an eyebrow, and – it’s ridiculous – there’s something about her complete lack of artifice and the fact that there are precisely no strings attached that make it just too easy.

Chapter Eight: Jess

Chapter Eight

Jess

4th February

‘Hello, lovey.’

I’m having a bit of a wobble when Nanna Beth calls. It’s nothing, really, but somehow she manages to pick that up in about two seconds flat. I sit on the edge of the bed and listen to her telling me how life is going in the sheltered accommodation.

‘So Clara who lives in number twelve had a party to celebrate her eighty-fifth, and caused ructions because she had all the family round including the great-grandchildren on bicycles.’