After Alex left yesterday, I spent the rest of the day reading the files. I got up early this morning and started on them again, and now I’m finally starting to make some notes that I think actually make sense.

It’s taken me hours – I forgot to have lunch and I’m just thinking about making some toast when my phone rings. Tash. Rob’s back, so she stayed at her own place last night and I haven’t even had a chance to tell her about Alex coming round.

‘I’ve got so much to tell you!’ I say as soon as I answer.

‘Iz?’ she says, and then for a few seconds, all I can hear is sniffling. My stomach rolls with nerves – Tash doesn’t cry.

‘Tash?’ I say, standing up. ‘Are you okay?’

‘No,’ she says. ‘I’m not okay.’ Her voice sounds strained and weird, like she’s been crying for a while.

‘What’s happened?’ I feel sick. What if something really bad’s happened and I can’t help ’cos I’m fucking invisible?

‘Rob… Me and Rob… Can I come and stay with you?’

‘Of course. But what’s happened, Tash? You and Rob what?’

‘He’s with someone else.’

There’s a thump as if Tash has dropped the phone and then I can hear a hiccup and a sob before she picks it up again. ‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘He’s in love with someone else.’

‘Oh my god, Tash.’ I look around the room as if I’m going to suddenly spot something that will help me deal with this. ‘Where are you?’

‘I’m at…’ There’s a long silence and I close my eyes tightly, trying to will her to be okay.

‘I’m at a bar,’ she says.

‘Are you on your own?’

‘Yeah,’ she says.

‘Stay there,’ I tell her. ‘I’ll come and get you.’

‘You can’t,’ she says simply.

‘I fucking can,’ I say. ‘Give me the address.’

I’m standing in front of my building, looking across at the pub where those dickheads yelled at me that night – god, it seems like years ago when it’s actually less than a week – when Alex pulls up outside in a black cab. He opens the door, looking over towards the building and I’m so relieved to see him, I feel a bit tearful. I touch his arm gently – I don’t want to scare the shit out of him – and he immediately looks almost directly at me.

‘Izzy?’ he says quietly.

‘Hi,’ I say. ‘Thank you.’

He runs his hand down my arm and takes my hand then clambers back inside the cab, pulling me in with him. I drop down next to him.

‘You in?’ he asks me, his mouth close to my ear.

I squeeze his hand to indicate ‘yes’ and he pulls the door closed and then leans in front of me to pull a seatbelt round me.

‘Where now, mate?’ The cab driver asks.

I look at him. He’s looking straight ahead, not back at us in his rear view mirror, which is a relief. Not that I think he’d notice the seatbelt. I’m starting to realise people don’t really see things they don’t expect to see. And even if he did notice, he’s more likely to think Alex is a weirdo than that he’s picked up his invisible colleague to go and find her drunk and heartbroken best friend.

My phone is tucked inside the stretchy black vest I’ve been wearing instead of a bra and I tug it out and show Alex the name and address of the bar Tash is at on my phone. He gives the cab driver the details and gets his own phone out, holding it up in front of his face.

‘Hey,’ he says.

‘Hey,’ I say back, quietly.

‘You okay?’

He leans against me and I press back against his arm. For the first time since I answered the phone to Tash, I start to feel more relaxed. Less terrified.

‘She’ll be okay,’ he says, before I’ve replied.

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘I just… I just want to get to her, you know? Thanks for coming with me.’

‘Of course,’ he says. ‘You couldn’t very well go on your own. Although I do think that would be worth seeing.’

I smile, picturing invisible me dragging Tash out of a bar while the men who are no doubt swarming around her look on, confused. When I phoned Alex, he didn’t even hesitate. I said I needed help and he just left work and came to help me. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t.

‘Is it far, do you know?’ I ask him now.

‘Do you know how long it’s going to be, mate?’ he asks the driver.

‘Shouldn’t be more than fifteen, if we’re lucky,’ the driver says, glancing back in the rear view mirror.

‘Great, thanks,’ Alex says.

‘Oh shit,’ I say. ‘I haven’t brought any money.’

‘No worries,’ Alex says. ‘I’ve got money.’

‘I’ll pay you back,’ I say. ‘I promise.’

I turn my head and rest my forehead gently on his shoulder. He smells like smoke, but I’m surprised to find I don’t mind it.

‘Thank you,’ I say again.

I look out of the window and realise we’re on England’s Lane. Max and I used to come here a lot when we were first going out together. There was a tiny restaurant that did the most amazing pizzas and then we’d go to the pub on the corner and stay in there all night. We were happy then, I’m sure we were. I try to remember if we went home after and ripped each other’s clothes off, like Tash asked, but I’m pretty sure we never did. I remember once standing between his legs when he sat at the bus stop and he pushed his hand down the back of my jeans, but I’m pretty sure I told him to knock it off.

I text Tash to tell her we’re on the way, we should be there very soon, but she doesn’t reply. I carry on staring out of the window and after a few more minutes, sit up straight and lean towards the window when I see some buildings I recognise coming up on the right; three Victorian red-brick mansion blocks near Lord’s Cricket Ground. When Tash and I used to come down to London on the Megabus – it was so much cheaper than the train – we’d pass these blocks and always say that one day we’d get a place there together.

Course, we didn’t know back then that some of the apartments cost over a million quid.

About five minutes later, the taxi stops in front of a much more modern, much uglier, mansion block and the driver says, ‘It’s just there, on the corner. I can’t get any closer – roadworks.’

Alex leans across me to open the door and then pays the driver as I get out of the cab and wait for him on the pavement.

I wince as I see the workmen in the middle of the road turn in my direction, but then I remember they can’t see me. I want to whistle or shout ‘Nice arse!’ at them, give them a taste of their own medicine, but I need to get to Tash. The taxi pulls away, stopping almost immediately at the lights, and Alex says, ‘Izzy.’

‘I’m here,’ I say and reach out for his hand. He squeezes my fingers and says, ‘Let’s go and get her.’

The pub is not at all what I’ve been imagining. In my mind, Tash was slumped over the bar of some seedy dive, her cheek resting in a pool of beer, creepy men circling her while rock music played and a huge hairy barman in leather slowly polished a glass with a tea towel, looking at Tash and licking his lips.

Instead we walk into a bright and modern gastropub. The U-shaped white wood bar is surrounded with mismatched bar stools, the free-standing tables are marble-topped, the booths around the outside of the room are red leather. Adele’s 21 is playing quietly and instead of a hairy barman, there’s a young-looking woman with a black asymmetric bob, red lipstick and black-framed glasses. She smiles at us and says, ‘What can I get you?’

I’m about to answer before I remember she’s not smiling at us, she’s smiling at Alex.

‘I’m just looking for a friend, actually,’ Alex says. ‘I mean. My friend’s here. Already.’ He frowns.

I spot Tash in the furthest booth in the far corner of the room and tug at Alex’s hand.

‘Ah!’ Alex says, smiling at the woman. And then we’re crossing the room and sliding into the booth across from Tash.

She looks terrible. Beautiful, of course, she always looks beautiful, but more miserable than I think I’ve ever seen her. Her eyes are red and her face is pale and her hands, in front of her on the table, are shaking.

‘Oh,’ she says, staring at Alex. ‘Why are you…?’

She leans down and rests her head on her crossed arms.

‘Izzy’s with me,’ Alex says quietly and Tash looks up. She looks directly at him, her puffy eyes narrowing, and then looks to the side of him, right at me.

‘Where?’

‘I’m here,’ I whisper. I reach out across the table and put my fingers on the back of her hand.

‘Oh,’ she says, grabbing my hand with both of hers and squeezing it a bit too tightly. ‘Oh, thank fuck.’

‘Do you want to get out of here?’ I ask her.

‘I…’ She frowns, looking confused. ‘I ordered food.’

‘You ordered food?’

‘I feel…’ She sits back and puts one hand on her stomach. ‘I feel like there’s a hole. Here. I wanted…’ She looks confused again. ‘Soup.’

‘Soup.’

She nods.

‘That makes sense,’ Alex says. ‘Comfort food.’

Tash nods. ‘My mum always made me soup. When I was sad.’

Her voice is tiny and I can’t bear it. Not Tash. I stand up and move around the table to sit down next to her on her side of the booth.

‘Budge up,’ I say, my mouth next to her ear. I wrap my arms round her, she presses her face against my neck and I feel her tears running down inside the collar of my t-shirt.

I turn my body to shelter her from the rest of the pub, but then I realise I’m not sheltering her at all. I can’t.

‘Does this look—’ I start to ask Alex, but right then the waiter arrives with Tash’s food: a bowl of what looks like tomato soup and a plate with half a baguette and a pot of butter.

‘I’ll just get your cutlery,’ the waiter says, looking down at the table and clearly trying really hard not to look at Tash.

I stroke her hair as she sniffles against my neck. ‘I can’t believe it,’ I hear her mumble. ‘What did I do wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ I say into the top of her head. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong. It’ll be okay. Eat your soup and then come back to mine and it’ll all be okay.’

At least, I hope it will.

‘Do we need to go and collect anything from your flat?’ Alex asks Tash as we get into the taxi about half an hour later.

Tash just shakes her head at Alex, and pulls at my hand so I’m sitting down next to her. She curls into me the same way she did in the pub. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her like this before. When she split up with her boyfriend before we moved to London, she didn’t cry at all. She got absolutely hammered, threw all the photos of the two of them into a bin outside McDonald’s and told me never to mention him again.

Alex is sitting opposite on the drop-down seat and looking between me and Tash. He looks concerned and it makes me want to kiss him. I know I should be thinking about my best friend and her heartbreak – and I am – but Alex has been so gentle with Tash that it makes me want to tie him to a bed. That’s probably weird. I need to ask Tash about that. But maybe not right now.

‘Have you got wine?’ Tash asks me as soon as we’re inside my flat.

Alex paid for the taxi again; I need to remember to pay him back. The thought of money makes anxiety prickle in my belly, but I can deal with that another day. I need to deal with Tash today.

‘Yes, don’t worry,’ I tell her, tugging her jacket off her shoulders and hanging it over the back of a chair.

‘Not now, though,’ she says, her head slumping forward. ‘Can I just sleep?’

‘Of course. Do you—’

I don’t get to finish my question because Tash just heads into my bedroom, without looking back.

‘Do you think she needs anything?’ I ask Alex.

‘I think she just needs to sleep,’ Alex says. He walks right up to me and puts one hand on my left shoulder. His other hand slides up my right arm before finding my other shoulder and then he pulls me against his chest.

‘You’re really good at that,’ I tell him. ‘Knowing where I am, I mean.’

I feel him laugh into the top of my hair. ‘I know. It’s weird. If I close my eyes, I can’t even tell you’re invisible.’

My breath catches in my chest and I make myself breathe out slowly and carefully.

‘You were good with Tash, too,’ I say as soon as I can.

He hums. ‘Well, you know, I’ve been there.’

‘Oh yeah,’ I say. His chin is resting on the top of my head and I like it. I feel grounded.

‘How about you?’ he says. ‘Ever had your heart broken?’

I shake my head, feeling his chin drag across my hair.

‘No?’ he says.

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘I…’ I frown. ‘I’m not sure. I think… I protect myself too well.’

He laughs. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. I… There was one boyfriend when I was eighteen. And I really… We both… I think… Shit, sorry, I can’t finish a sentence.’

‘It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if—’

‘No, I want to. But I haven’t thought about it for a while and I’m just not sure…’

‘Should we sit down?’ Alex squeezes and releases me, sliding his hand down my arm and into my hand. He leads me over to the sofa and I sit down in what was always Max’s spot, but which I have now reclaimed with cushions and a blanket. I lean back against the arm of the sofa, tucking my feet up under me.

‘So,’ I say. ‘His name was Danny.’

‘Wait,’ Alex says. ‘Don’t tell me. You had a summer romance and you thought you’d never see him again, but then it turned out you were both at the same high school—’

I throw a cushion at him and it hits him square in the face. He drops it down onto his lap and grins at me. ‘Sorry, couldn’t resist.’

‘No. We met in the square we used to hang out at after school.’

‘The square?’

‘Yeah, just like… a square. In front of some shops.’

‘What did you do there?’

‘Just… hung out, really. There wasn’t anything to do.’

‘Okay,’ Alex says. ‘Just trying to picture the scene.’

‘So, yeah, we met at the square. And we started going out. And I really liked him. And he really liked me. I think. I mean, he said he did.’

‘Right. Sounds good.’

‘It was, yeah. For a while. But I was always sort of… I never really believed that he liked me as much as he said he did. I thought he was joking or exaggerating or that he’d maybe convinced himself he liked me, but he didn’t really. I thought for a while that maybe he was only going out with me to get to Tash.’

Alex is shaking his head, his brows pulled together in a frown.

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘I know. Self-esteem issues. This isn’t news. But then I had to go to university. He wanted us to keep going out, like long distance. He said that he loved me. And I… I thought I loved him. But when he said it, I can remember thinking that it was just ridiculous. That of course he didn’t love me. Of course I didn’t love him. We were just kids.’

‘You were eighteen?’

‘Almost nineteen by then. Yeah. Old enough to know.’

‘Yeah,’ Alex says.

‘It just seemed unimaginable to me,’ I say. ‘I don’t get it now. I really don’t. I liked him. Maybe I loved him. But I couldn’t leave someone I loved, so instead I pretended I didn’t. And I pretended so well that I believed myself. How fucked up is that?’

‘It’s not fucked up,’ he says quietly. ‘You were protecting yourself. Like you said.’

I stare at him. His gingery hair. His stubble. The way one of his eyebrows is sort of tufty at the end. If I’d met him in a bar, I’m not sure I’d have looked at him twice. But here, on my sofa… I like his face.

‘Have you fallen asleep?’ he says.

I laugh. ‘Sorry, no. Just thinking.’

‘’Cos you know you’ve got an unfair advantage with this invisibility thing.’

‘I won’t abuse it, I promise,’ I say.

And then my head fills with an image of me unbuttoning Alex’s shirt, undoing his belt, sliding my hands across his shoulders and down his stomach while he tries to touch me but can’t because he can’t see me. I cross my legs, squeezing my thighs together.

Alex reaches over and I watch his fingers as he touches my knee. I close my eyes so I can feel them without the weirdness of seeing them hovering there on what looks like nothing.

I feel him moving closer. I can smell the clean soapy scent of his skin. Or maybe it’s his hair. His other hand is on my other knee.

‘Is this okay?’ he says and his voice is closer.

‘Yeah.’ I lean forward to kiss him, but hit him in the face with my forehead.

‘Shit!’ he says, dropping against the back of the sofa.

‘Sorry,’ I say, leaning forward again and sliding one hand over his cheek. There’s a red mark blooming on his forehead. ‘Sorry, I had my eyes closed.’

He laughs. ‘I think maybe it’s a good idea for one of us to actually see.’

‘No, you’re right,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry.’ I move closer so that I’m kneeling up next to him and move my other hand up to his face.

‘Is this okay?’ I ask him.

He smiles. ‘You’re not going to head-butt me again?’

‘I’m going to try hard not to.’

He tips his face up and I press my mouth down on his, his arms immediately sliding around my back and pulling me more firmly against him. My eyes are open, but his are closed, his long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks.

‘Hey,’ Tash says from behind me. ‘I can’t sleep. My brain won’t shut up. God, I feel like shit.’

I pull away from Alex, feeling instantly colder when I’m not leaning against him, and turn to look back at Tash.

She’s tied her hair up in a loose bun and she looks tired and drained.

‘Come and sit down,’ I tell her. I can’t even look at Alex, but he instantly moves up to the other end of the sofa and directs Tash to the part he’d been sitting on – we’d both been sitting on – until a few seconds ago.

‘Thanks,’ Tash says, sitting. She rubs both hands over her face and stretches, rolling her neck from side to side. ‘And thanks for coming to get me,’ she says, pushing her shoulders back and groaning at the stretch. ‘I… God. Today has been total dog shit.’

‘What happened?’ I ask.

‘I’m going to go and get some wine,’ Alex says, standing up. ‘And… a takeaway? Do you need anything?’

My stomach rumbles right on cue and I realise that I haven’t eaten. I was planning to get some food when Tash phoned and then I thought about ordering something at the pub, but there’s the whole ‘eating while invisible’ issue.

‘Could you get some chips maybe?’ I ask him.

‘I’ll get fish and chips,’ he says. ‘Tash? You hungry?’

‘I could eat some chips,’ she says. ‘Let me give you some money.’

‘No,’ Alex says. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

I start to stand up. ‘Honestly. I need to. You paid for the cabs and—’

‘It’s fine,’ he says. ‘You two talk. I’ll get food. And more wine, right?’

‘Yeah,’ I say, looking at Tash. ‘Please.’

Alex leaves and I rest my socked feet on Tash’s thigh.

‘Hey,’ I say.

She reaches down and wraps her hand around my ankle. ‘Fucking hell, Izzy. What am I going to do?’

‘You’re going to stay here until you feel better,’ I tell her. ‘Right?’

She nods.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ I ask.

We sit in silence for a few seconds and then she says, ‘He’s fallen in love with someone else. Rob.’

‘Oh Tash,’ I say, reaching out and picking up her hand.

‘I thought he was in love with me. He said that he was in love with me. And then he comes back from America and tells me that he’s never been in love with me. He thought he was, but then he met someone else and was like… oh! This is how it should feel.’

‘Fuck,’ I say.

Tash laughs. ‘I know. And I feel… I feel like such a fucking idiot. All this time, I’ve felt so… We had a good thing, you know? I got to have this man at home. This man who loved me and it was comfortable and secure and I still got to go and fuck other people. I thought it was perfect. I thought I was so fucking clever.’

‘It’s not you,’ I tell her, stroking the back of her hand with my thumb.

‘It is, though,’ she says forcefully. ‘It is! I sat there with you in that bar, telling you how it was down to you that you’d settled for Max, that you could do better, that you were scared and all the time I was—’

She starts to cry again, huge gulping sobs, and I crawl across the sofa and wrap my arms around her.

‘You know you asked if I was punishing him. Rob. When I didn’t go to Texas?’

‘I remember,’ I say.

‘He was with her,’ she says. ‘I didn’t know for sure. But I suspected. I didn’t go because he didn’t ask me. Because he knew she was going to be there and he wanted to be with her.’

‘Oh Tash,’ I say. ‘I’m so sorry.’

She shakes her head. ‘It’s fine. He…’ She screws her face up and I reach over and hold her hand. ‘At least he was honest with me, you know? I just wish… I wish I’d been more honest with him.’

‘It’s okay, you know,’ I say. ‘That you only knew when it was too late. I mean… I don’t mean it’s okay. I mean, you can’t help that. You didn’t do it on purpose.’

She turns to look in my direction and she’s already shaking her head. ‘That’s the stupid thing. I’m not in love with him either. But I thought it was enough. I thought it was enough for both of us. But now he’s like “oh no, this is so much better” and I think… so what about me? Why don’t I want better? Why was it enough for me?’

‘You don’t… I mean, it’s not essential for you to fall in love, you know. It’s okay for you to want what you want.’

‘But it’s bullshit,’ she says vehemently. ‘Both of us – me and you – trying to protect ourselves. You moving in with someone you didn’t even like.’

I almost argue automatically, but she’s right.

‘And me fooling myself all this time. But we both got hurt anyway.’ She turns towards me, pulling her legs up underneath her, and reaches out her hands. I take them both.

‘We should make a vow,’ she says.

‘Oh god.’

She laughs. ‘No, not like when we were teenagers. A real one. We should make a vow to always be honest. With ourselves. With each other. With whoever we’re seeing. If we like someone we should tell them. And if we don’t like someone – or if they’re shit in bed – we should stop seeing them, no arguments, no excuses. What do you say?’

‘Of course,’ I say, squeezing her hands. ‘I promise.’

I want to ask her about Liam. But I know Tash. If she wanted to talk about Liam, she’d be talking about Liam.

‘If I close my eyes,’ she says after a while, her voice croaky, ‘I can’t even tell you’re invisible.’

‘I know,’ I say. ‘That’s what Alex said.’

‘He’s really good,’ she mumbles. ‘You should get that locked down.’

I laugh. ‘I think it’s a bit early for that.’

‘Also you should never listen to me again. About anything. I talk shit.’

‘You don’t,’ I say, stroking her hair back from her forehead. ‘You’re very wise.’

‘What am I going to do, Iz?’

‘You’re going to be fine,’ I say and kiss her temple.

‘Can I really stay here? Rob’s selling the flat. They’re getting a place together. He—’ She starts to cry again and I hold her tighter, resting my cheek on the top of her head.

‘Of course you can stay,’ I say. ‘It’ll be like old times. If we listen really carefully, maybe we’ll hear someone wanking upstairs.’

Alex comes back with wine, milk and bread, along with the fish and chips. He gets plates from the cupboard, sets the table in the kitchen and puts the kettle on for tea. I turn to watch him over the back of the sofa, fascinated. I don’t remember Max ever setting the table. We ate at the table when he first moved in with me, but it wasn’t long before he was eating on his lap in front of the TV. For a while, I sat at the table by myself, but it made me sad, so I ended up eating on my lap too.

‘Ready?’ Alex says, raising his eyebrows at me.

‘I’m going to go and wash my face,’ Tash says, uncurling herself from the sofa and squeezing my hand before letting go and heading towards the bathroom.

‘Thank you for this,’ I tell Alex as I stand up. My leg is aching from the way I’ve been sitting and I rub at it, feeling my thigh muscle cramp and release.

‘No worries,’ Alex says. ‘Where are you?’

I’m leaning against the back of the sofa and looking at him. He’s so relaxed and confident and comfortable in himself. I like it.

‘I like you,’ I tell him. ‘You’re nice.’

His eyes widen and his face splits into a huge smile as he takes a couple of steps towards me. I stand up all the way, reach my hands out and flatten them against his chest.

‘I like you too,’ he says, his hands smoothing over my shoulders and down my arms.

I take another step and rest the top of my head against his collarbone. I can feel his breath moving my hair.

‘We should go on a date,’ Alex says. ‘Once you’re, you know, back to yourself.’

I laugh. ‘Yeah. Back to myself.’ But I feel more like myself now than I ever have before.

‘That looks weird,’ Tash says, walking back into the kitchen. ‘You standing there, holding nothing.’

‘I’m not holding nothing,’ Alex says. ‘I’m holding Izzy.’

I look over at Tash and she’s smiling right at me. ‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘You are.’