There’s an alarming pile of junk mail on top of the cupboard, all addressed to me and all entirely irrelevant to my life—apart from a few outstanding bills, I could have a dozen different credit cards, more loans than I could ever use, several-million-pound lottery wins that I, ‘Lyssa Allen, have been chosen to receive!’ and enough pizza delivery leaflets to wallpaper the lounge. Most of it can go directly into the bin.

Jake dumps my bag in the lounge. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

‘I’ll do it,’ I say. ‘I can manage.’ I try to look at him kindly. ‘Do you want a cup of tea before you go?’

A blank expression fixes on his face. ‘Go?’ he says. ‘Go where?’

‘Home.’

Jake looks round him slightly perplexed. ‘This is my home.’

Now I’m the perplexed one. ‘You left.’

He looks stung. ‘And now I’m back.’

I let out a surprised and faintly bitter laugh. ‘Just like that.’

‘Neve and I…’ He tails off and glances around him searching for inspiration. ‘We…we split up.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ I say.

‘Are you?’ Jake’s knees sort of collapse and he sits heavily on the sofa. ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’

‘Did you?’

He looks vaguely stricken. ‘I thought you’d want me to come back.’

Funny. So did I. Perhaps unwisely I choose not to reply.

‘I’ve moved my stuff into the spare room,’ Jake says. ‘I didn’t want to presume…’

‘Presume?’

‘I know it’s going to take time,’ he assures me. ‘You’ll have to learn to trust me again.’

I’m not sure if I’ve got that long. We stare at each other in silence.

‘Say something,’ Jake pleads.

I sit on the chair farthest away from him. It’s soft and squishy and, like the horrible pine-scented room perfume, I can’t believe I ever chose it. My mind is transported back to Dean’s house with its stark room and hard, rough-carved wooden furniture, the aroma of earth and spices and sexy, man smells. Slowly, I blink the image away. ‘This is all very sudden,’ is all I can manage. ‘I’ve only recently got used to the fact that you were gone.’

Jake looks crestfallen and I can’t find it in me to comfort him. I don’t know that I want him here. Maybe I need time on my own to think about exactly what I do want.

‘What can I do?’ I’m horrified to see that Jake’s eyes are filling with tears. ‘What can I do to make it right?’

My heart softens. ‘I think you’d better put that kettle on after all.’

Chapter sixty-seven

Chapter sixty-seven