‘Do you miss her?’ Karen was doing something odd with her feet, which were bare and dirty, balancing one off the opposite leg like a yoga pose she was too drunk to hold. He remembered how they’d been friends so many years ago, both into indie music in a college full of upper-class kids who only talked about rowing and drinking. He had no idea what her life was like now. A son of almost eighteen, the same age they’d been when they met.

‘Astrid? Yeah, I miss her. We were together twenty years.’

‘None of us thought it would last. We thought you’d be back from the frozen north in months. But it’s taken all this time.’ She sounded plaintive. ‘We missed you, Billy Boy.’

‘I missed you too.’ He kept his voice light, in the hope of ending this conversation.

‘Did you miss me specifically?’

‘Of course. Shame it’s too pricey to come back a lot.’

‘Do you remember first year?’ she said suddenly. ‘Remember when we first met?’

‘Er, I think so. That indie-soc meeting, yeah?’

‘I couldn’t believe it when you came in. I thought I’d already seen all the boys in our year and there you were.’

‘Well, yes, I didn’t really like the whole college bar scene.’

‘Do you know what I thought?’ Karen was leaning against the wall now, one leg up. Her dress was very low-cut. Bill suddenly realised what was happening.

‘We should go back,’ he began guiltily.

‘I thought . . .’ Karen’s voice swooped up. ‘I thought you were the hottest guy in our year. By miles.’

‘That’s very sweet of you. Long time ago, of course. I have a lot less hair now.’

‘No, no.’

‘Listen, Kar—’ The moment stilled between them. She moved closer; her long hair brushed his face. Ali wore hers shorter now, a sensible Mum-cut. ‘I might go to bed, actually.’

‘Don’t go to bed! Boring!’

‘We don’t drink much in Sweden. I’m out of the habit.’

‘Oh. You’ll leave me with boring old Callum and Mike, talking about boring work?’

Bill could have said he knew she didn’t find Mike boring. But he wanted to be kind. Karen had been on her own for a long time, decades, and he’d only been alone for two months and it hurt like a knife in his ribs. ‘Come on. I’ll walk out with you.’

He extended his arm, meaning to shepherd her away, but she nuzzled into it. He could smell the booze on her breath, and the strength of her perfume. She must have doused herself in it. ‘Oh Bill. You’re always so nice. I wish you’d liked me like you liked Ali.’