‘I’m telling you, Fred, it’s just, God, awful, the things some of them have gone through,’ Jenny said through a mouthful of food. ‘I mean, I can’t talk about the details obviously, but. God.’

‘Is this the group sessions or the one-to-one?’

‘Both. But the group sessions are probably more intense.’ Jenny had been on placement now for two months and, since their truncated evening at The Bristolian, Freddie hadn’t seen a great deal of her. Between work, college and her placement she barely had any free time. This hurried lunch was in lieu of several missed dates.

‘So, what are the group sessions like?’ he asked.

‘Strange. Fascinating, but strange. They say all the right supportive things to each other, listen respectfully and all that, but then immediately counter with their own experience. So there’s almost this one-upmanship going on, you know? “Yes, I totally understand how lost you must feel after your ninety-year-old nan died, because I felt the same when my entire family died in a car crash”. “Yes, your miscarriages are awful; when my eleven-year-old died of cancer…”.’ She laid down her fork, and took a sip of water. ‘There’s these two competing dynamics. One is, like, intense empathy and the other is a kind of competitive narcissism, you know?’

‘That sounds shit,’ Freddie told her.

‘It is. But it’s fascinating too. Just seeing how people work to impress each other in strange ways, you know? It’s all about feeding the ego with sympathy.’ She pushed her plate away. ‘But, yeah, it’s… intense.’

‘Are you eating enough?’ Freddie pointed at her half-eaten plate of food.

‘Oh.’ She waved one hand in an irritated way. ‘You sound like David.’

‘What?’

‘No, not in a bad way.’ The irritation disappeared. ‘I mean, he said the same thing the other day. I’m probably not though, in fairness. I forget to eat lunch most days. Too busy.’

‘You need to look after yourself a bit more,’ Freddie told her anxiously. ‘You don’t want to burn out. And what about the blog? That’s been pretty quiet lately.’

‘I know. I know.’ She sighed. ‘I just haven’t had the time—’

‘I’m not criticising. It’s just, you always found it useful, a safety valve.’

‘David’s a bit iffy about the blog at the minute.’ She pushed her hand through her hair.

‘Why?’

‘Oh, he’s very private. And he worries about me – especially after all the comments after Mum died, you know. He doesn’t want me to go through that again.’

‘It’s nice that he’s supportive,’ Freddie said carefully. ‘But you have to do what feels right for you, haven’t you?’ It felt strange to pick his phrases so carefully. But he hadn’t seen her in such a long time, and she was so tired and stressed that he didn’t want to tire her further with any criticism of David – however minor.

‘Can I tell you something?’ She looked out from under her hair. ‘About David?’

His heart sped up a little. ‘Of course.’

‘He has a real problem with Matt. He wants me to move out of the flat and in with him and Catherine.’ She flopped one tired arm onto the tabletop. ‘What d’you think?’

‘Why does he have a problem with Matt?’

‘It’s my fault really. I shouldn’t have… I knew he’d freak out a bit.’ She frowned. One finger picked at an already bitten nail. ‘Sometimes I think Matt’s been in my room. It’s silly, it’s just a feeling.’

‘Oh what?’ Freddie spluttered. ‘You didn’t tell me that! What?—’

‘But I’m probably imagining it. I’m so tired when I get back I can’t see straight. I’m probably just being paranoid.’

‘But why d’you think he’s—?’

‘Oh, like I said, it’s silly. Just sometimes the door’s open when I know I left it closed. Things in my drawers look different, like they’ve been touched. But it’s all just… nothing. Anyway, stupidly I told David and, well, you know how protective he is of me. He really wants me to move in.’

Freddie paused. The idea of her moving in with David was… alarming. ‘You could come and stay with me?’ he said eventually.

‘No, I can’t leave. I’ve got ages left on the lease. And anyway, if I stay with you, that’ll hurt David’s feelings.’ She shook her head. ‘No, I’m just being silly. I’m just tired and… anyway, listen, what’re you doing this weekend? David’s invited us to his house for a meal.’

‘You’re sure I’m invited?’

‘Well, yes. Of course.’ She smiled. ‘Why wouldn’t you be?’

‘He’s not invited me before,’ Freddie replied. ‘I don’t think he likes me much.’

‘He does!’ Jenny was over-bright. ‘He thinks you’re brilliant.’

‘Oh come on, Jen...’

‘He just takes a while to open up, that’s all. He likes you. He does!’ Freddie ducked his head, absurdly aware that he was suddenly close to tears. Silly. Childish. But he was used to people liking him. And he wasn’t used to seeing less and less of Jenny. The fact that she was trying so hard to deny the obvious was painful. Sweet, but painful.

‘I’m a third wheel nowadays.’ He tried to mitigate the self pity with a laugh, but that only made things worse. His throat closed. His head felt hot.

Jenny took his hand. ‘Look, I know that David is a bit reserved, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you. If it means anything at all, it means he doesn’t know you. It’s taken me a while to get my head around it too, but all it is is that he’s very English, you know? He’s not impulsive, he’s careful. He kind of lets his actions speak for him. Like when he bought me all those clothes, and the shoes. That was his way of telling me he loved me. Some people are just like that, aren’t they? They don’t say what’s on their mind; they show you, and I know that making a meal is a big deal for him.’ She smiled. ‘He’s actually planning menus! We had a long conversation last night about how much you might like mussels.’

‘Not at all. You told him that, right?’

‘Yep. And then he started worrying about desserts.’

‘That’s sweet.’

‘It is sweet. He’s sweet. That’s one of the things I like about him – he’s… different. He thinks about things, he’s very deliberate. Because he really wants you to like him, he’s nervous around you, and maybe that shyness comes across as… being standoffish? Anyway, a meal, well that’s his way of asking if you’ll be his friend. Genuinely. Please come? You’re my two favourite people, and I need you to get along so I can be happy. Not going to lie, I’m being incredibly selfish, here, OK? Please?’

‘Yeah, that’s the thing about you. Completely self-centred.’ He grinned and blinked a tear away. ‘Absolute bitch. I should warn David about you.’

‘Warn him this weekend then. That’s your chance to save him.’ She squeezed Freddie’s hand, and became serious. ‘I’ve missed you, Fred. Just because I’m seeing someone, it doesn’t mean that you and me—’

‘Stop.’ He dabbed at his eyes. ‘Christ, all right. I’ll come. Don’t say anything else about it or I’ll dissolve completely. What’s wrong with me?’

She patted his hand again. ‘Menopause?’

He’d been planning on mentioning the ringtone thing, and telling her about the profile picture but, now, after such a long time apart, and after this heartfelt exchange, how could he? He hadn’t so far, so why would he now, after David was making such an effort to be his friend? And they didn’t signify anything anyway – Jenny was in love with a nice man, a man who worried about and cared for her, a decent man who was just a bit on the shy side, and Freddie feeling a bit left out and lonely, jealous even, had blown things out of proportion. That was all.