‘Oh, okay, yes.’ I felt I was three steps behind the conversation, scrambling to catch up, not managing to respond to the last thing that had been said. ‘Yes, lovely to meet you too,’ I managed.

‘And if there’s anything else, anything at all, just call here, call for me or Leonie. And of course, any more being-a-doctor questions,’ said Geraldine, smiling but already looking away, ‘happy to answer them.’

I sat outside the nurse’s station, waiting for Bette. I couldn’t get my head around what Geraldine had just said, or not said. How could you repeatedly break your fingers? Or had someone broken them? That thought was so disturbing that I had a lot of trouble thinking it. I would ask her about it in the car on the way back. There would be a straightforward explanation. There had to be. My own fingers slid into the back pocket of my jeans and found paper there, unexpectedly. The letter for Bette from the post office yesterday. I’d forgotten to hand it over.

My phone gave a gentle ping. And there it was. A message from Nassim.

Sorry? Sorry for what?

Shit. Shit. Oh shit.

You stop messaging me and calling me, and then I get this?

I shoved the letter back into my pocket and stood and walked outside, as though the fresh air might make this go better. But before I even got there my phone was ringing. I looked at Nassim’s name on my screen and I froze and it went through to voicemail. A text came through with the hang-up message, and then another gentle ping from the app and a block of text from Nassim – more than he could have just written then.

I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t want to crowd you, I know I’ve promised not to do that, but it’s super hard when you just totally disappear like this. You know that I can leave you alone as much as you want, so long as I know where I stand – I’ve said that right from the start. But right now I just don’t know where I am with you, and quite frankly it feels shit. You’re making me feel crazy, and like I’m too needy. You’ve been making me try to be that cool guy that somehow we’re all supposed to be and that now you seem to really want. But I don’t know if I can actually do it, Anna. I don’t know if I want to do it. I don’t really want to be that kind of ‘bloke’ that is just a body without feelings. I really didn’t know you wanted that kind of guy. And part of me still doesn’t think you do. Part of me still thinks you want someone like me – that you want me. But maybe it’s just the stupid part of me that thinks that. The idiot part. The part that is making a fool out of me.

I put my hand to my head. There it was. Proof. Proof I was hurting him. That saying nothing was doing something. Something unkind. I had to think. I couldn’t think.