It’s hard to explain the longing in my heart, the anticipated climax to years of waiting. Tonight, however, there was more work to be done. I needed to hear the end of the story and see if my head would allow my heart free rein to let you back in. Having found you again after so long, I suspect that even if I couldn’t justify a less than plausible storyline, I wouldn’t have been able to let you go. Deep down I suspected you knew this but I had to make you wonder.

‘Just like old times,’ was always going to be your opening gambit. The drinks were again on the table, time having been swept aside like a pesky fly.

‘Not quite,’ I said with the merest upturn of my lips. ‘There’s been a lot of water under the bridge.’ I felt an overwhelming urge to be quiet, touch you, run my fingers through your unkempt curls and wrap my arms around your neck, to forgo the questions.

It was as if we were alone; the only two people left on the planet. There was a faint buzz of conversation from other customers, but it seemed far off. The lights were dim, a yellow glow enveloped us, and sleepy music played in the background.

‘You’re still so beautiful,’ you said as you leant in close. You smelt the same.

‘What happened after you left? Where did you go?’

‘I went to Italy. Amber’s father has a small villa on the borders of Umbria and Tuscany, near Lake Trasimeno. It was so beautiful. I want to take you one day.’ You made it sound so easy. You took a sip of your lager, licking foam from your lips.

‘Why didn’t you call? Didn’t you care?’ All the years of anger, hurt and misery collided in that one minute. ‘You bastard. While I was crying my eyes out, desperately trying to find out where you were, you were living it up in some Italian paradise with a fancy woman.’ I heard my voice rise from the abyss. People looked round as I swatted your hand away.

‘It wasn’t like that. Let me finish. Please. Amber was a means to an end, nothing more. I had to get away. It was all so rushed, so last minute, and I was shit scared. I used her. There was nothing between us. I was still in love with you.’

I waited.

There was a huddle of men round the bar. A spontaneous outburst of laughter erupted as the landlord added the punchline to some joke. I thought back to the rugby club; the men-only affairs.

‘I kept trying to pick up the courage to speak to you, to explain. I phoned lots of times, listened to your voice but put the phone down again.’