It was a Saturday in the third week that did it.

Jake left at nine for a weekend trip — a friend's stag do, two nights away, he had mentioned it three times and she had nodded three times and not fully registered what it meant until she woke up Saturday morning and the flat was quiet and she remembered.

Two nights.

Just her and Ace.

She lay in bed for a moment and looked at the ceiling and had a very direct conversation with herself about what the next forty eight hours were going to be — normal, fine, two people in a flat who were capable of being...