I glanced at Luke, who was looking between Cameron and myself with an enjoyment he was clearly incapable of disguising. If he hadn’t picked up on the tension before, he was onto it now, and he couldn’t help loving it.

He jerked his head towards Cameron, who was now sitting with his back to us, and mouthed, ‘How was your weekend?’ at me.

I rolled my eyes but acted on his cue nevertheless. ‘Good weekend?’ I asked, adding, ‘Cameron’, when he showed no sign of responding.

He turned in his chair. ‘Yes, thanks. You?’

‘Me? Oh, well, erm…’ I began, unprepared for the immediacy of his reciprocal enquiry and now racking my brains for weekend news. ‘A friend – well, no, not a friend – my ex, actually… I mean, things are OK, so he’s sort of a friend, I suppose. Anyway, he came round for coffee. And I bought a ticket for a gig, which I don’t think I’ll go to, because it’s not really my kind of music. I bought four tickets, actually – long story. So, y’know, as weekends go, it was… interesting.’ I tacked on a light laugh, which went on just a little too long to remain the right side of sane.

Cameron nodded impassively. ‘OK.’

‘What’s the gig?’ asked Luke. ‘I might take the tickets off your hands.’

‘They’re for my neighbour’s reggae and rock band. He plays the penny whistle.’

‘Damn it,’ said Luke, shaking his head. ‘If only he played the kazoo, I’d have bitten your hand off.’

I laughed and noticed Cameron smile, which made me feel a little better. Shared amusement was, I reflected, at least a start.

‘So how did you end up buying so many tickets?’ asked Luke, as Cameron turned towards his screen.

‘My neighbour is really pushy.’

‘Nothing to do with you being a soft touch, then?’

‘Hey,’ I protested, ‘I knocked him down from £10 to £8.75 a ticket, actually.’

‘£8.75?’ he echoed, as if impressed. ‘Well, that certainly doesn’t sound like a figure he snatched out of thin air when he saw you coming.’

I bent down and placed my bag on the floor. ‘I wonder if Roger would like the tickets. I don’t want any money for them and it might be a fun night out for him and a few of his friends.’

‘Provided there’s wheelchair access and it doesn’t clash with Countdown,’ said Luke. ‘Oh and so long as you don’t actually mention to him that it’s a gig.’

‘You’re right,’ I sighed, ‘it’s not really Roger’s thing, is it?’

‘To be fair to Rog,’ said Luke, now tapping at his keyboard, ‘I don’t think it’s anyone’s thing. Apart from the desperate and the tone-deaf.’

‘Don’t suppose you know anyone who fits the bill?’