SIX

      Seven years earlier

      For the next week, Zoe didn’t hear from Jack. Her studies kept her busy; there were family birthdays; a night out with her sisters.

      But she didn’t for a single moment stop thinking about him. Family mealtimes reminded her of dinner with his parents. She picked at her food, until she could see her mum and dad regarding her, and each other, with meaningful looks. Every university lecture was spent wondering if she’d find him outside afterwards – just as she’d waited for him – but he was never there. The night out with her sisters ended early when a guy had approached their table, asking Zoe if he could buy her a drink, and she had stared at him mutely, calculating all the ways in which he wasn’t as good as Jack. Eventually Kat had stuck her in a cab and sent it back to Mum and Dad’s. On that taxi ride home, she was glad she’d deleted him from her phone to stop herself from tumbling headfirst into something she didn’t understand – she couldn’t call even if she’d wanted to. Which she did. And which was, she thought, even more of a reason not to call. If she was this obsessed with him already, it was a warning bell to stay well away, to protect him from that kind of suffocation.

      Until Tuesday morning, when she got a text from an unrecognised number, saying, simply, Call me please. Only, she recognised it. Her stomach dropped through the floor. What the hell had happened? A death? An STD? Oh Jesus, did he have a girlfriend he’d forgotten to mention?

      It rang once, before Jack’s voice said with plain delight, ‘Hey!’

      ‘What? What is it? What’s wrong?’

      ‘What do you mean what’s wrong? You called me.’

      ‘You said I had to call you. What’s happened?’

      There was a pause. ‘Oh god. No, I didn’t—’

      ‘You didn’t mean to send that message to me. Ok, fine, no problem.’ Zoe swallowed hard.

      ‘No! No, I very much did mean to send it to you – I just didn’t think – I hadn’t thought how it sounded. I’m really sorry. I didn’t – it’s not an emergency. I just … I was just asking please if you might call me again.’

      It was Zoe’s turn to pause. ‘Oh. Right.’ She felt herself blushing. ‘Why?’

      Jack didn’t pause at all now. ‘Because I missed you. I wanted to talk to you again. Maybe even to see you again?’ There was a silence. ‘Unless … Have I judged this all wrong? God, I’m so sorry, Zoe, I thought we’d both had a good time. Sorry. Sorry. I won’t … I won’t call you again. Sorry. I just wanted to say that I’d had a really nice time with you. So … thank you. Ok. Bye.’

      ‘Wait!’ The call was still connected. ‘Jack?’

      ‘Hello.’

      ‘I did have a nice time. With you. A really nice time.’

      ‘But …’

      ‘But? I don’t think there is a but. And that’s the but.’

      ‘I … Ok. So do you fancy a drink? It’s fine either way, I don’t want to—’

      ‘Yes.’ Zoe let out a relieved sigh, and felt her shoulders drop three inches, feeling a hundred pounds lighter. It felt like time to stop protecting herself. ‘Please. Yes. I would like a drink, thank you.’ She was smiling again. ‘I’d really like that a lot.’

      ‘Good.’ She could hear the smile in his voice too.

      She hugged the phone a little. ‘Good.’

      They met at a bar around the corner from his work, where he knew the staff. They greeted him with high fives and hugs, and Jack introduced Zoe to them all.

      ‘And this, Zoe, this is one of the most talented people you’ll ever meet,’ he said, nodding at an older woman with cropped grey hair. ‘Nic, this is Zoe. Zoe, Nic.’ They smiled at each other. Jack added in a stage whisper, ‘She literally makes the best cocktails I’ve ever had. It’s actual witchcraft. And I mean that in the best possible way.’ Zoe looked curious, and Nic nodded slowly.

      ‘It’s true. For them, slugs and toads and frogspawn. But for you … a vodka martini?’

      ‘Oh my god, yes. Please.’

      She nodded at Jack. ‘I’ll let you off the cauldron sauce for once. Same for you?’ He nodded back, with a huge grin. ‘Go on, you two, take a booth. We’ll bring them over.’

      They took a small booth in the corner, where no one would be passing by. It was cosy, but not so cosy that Zoe couldn’t put a little distance between her and Jack as they sat down. His face flickered with disappointment for just a moment. ‘Are we … is everything ok?’

      Zoe picked up a cocktail stick from the miniature barrel in the middle of the table and chewed on it briefly. ‘It’s all ok. I suppose that I missed you too.’ Jack’s grin returned. ‘But I don’t get what’s happening here.’

      ‘It’s a cocktail bar. They’ll bring us drinks and we give them money,’ Jack explained.

      ‘Seriously. What is this? Why did I miss you so much? Why did I think about you all day every day? What even is this? Who are you?’

      ‘You thought about me every day?’ Jack’s grin crept even wider across his face.

      ‘I don’t understand what’s happening. I’m serious.’ They stared at each other, saying nothing.

      Nic herself arrived with their drinks, and added two bowls of olives to their table. ‘Compliments of the manager,’ she said, before slipping away with the infinite discretion of an experienced bar worker.

      Jack reached for an olive but knocked over the barrel of toothpicks in his haste. ‘Jesus Christ, I’m nervous,’ he muttered. After hurriedly putting them back in their pot, he glanced up at Zoe, turning his glass