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he was throwing proved a little too large when one found its way on to Ned’s bedroom floor surrounded by tiny shards of glass.

In the past I’d fought Joel’s corner when people talked poorly of him, but I was slowly coming to realise that sticking up for him wasn’t my job anymore.

‘How long are you going to stay mad about that window?’ I asked. ‘Joel could have been worse, I guess. He didn’t have a secret wife, like Charlie probably has, and he didn’t run off with someone else like Connie did.’ I saw him flinch a little at the mention of his ex-wife’s name, but he was becoming more immune to her as time went on. ‘He could have done much worse to me.’

‘Yeah, he could have done much better too.’ Ned sighed and fiddled with the knot of his tie until it sat, smartly, against his collar. ‘Let’s just agree that we are both terrible at picking partners for ourselves.’ Ned shook his head in frustration. ‘You gonna be okay?’ he asked, reaching down a hand to squeeze my shoulder.

I sucked my teeth in response.

‘Well, text me if there are any developments. I’m off, but I’ll see you in a bit. Don’t forget we have that meeting with the project manager at two.’

‘I hadn’t forgotten,’ I lied.

He walked to the door but stopped at the last second, holding the doorframe with both hands and peering around it. ‘Oh, are we doing shitty film night tonight?’

I looked at him over my shoulder. ‘It’s not like I have any other plans. My boyfriend’s busy with his wife.’ I sighed and reassumed the position of lazing on the sofa. I watched as several computer-animated dogs in various work uniforms jumped clumsily across the screen. I sighed as I heard the sound of the front door closing. Alone again. I shoved another spoonful of cereal into my mouth and chewed angrily.

No one would have guessed, by how I handled myself at work, that I was completely distracted by thoughts of the night before and by the time the end of my shift rolled around I was feeling exhausted from faking a cheerful façade all day. That afternoon, Ned and I left work together and headed to Tesco to buy dinner and to peruse the bargain DVD shelves for our Friday night tradition of shitty film, beer and pizza. The rules were that the film had to be under five pounds and the pizza had to have garlic and herb dip; other than those two stipulations, we were pretty flexible.

I was reading the back of an early Noughties’ horror film, with a screaming, blood-spattered, scantily clad woman on the front, when my phone began buzzing in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw my mum’s face beaming at me from the screen. I accepted the video call and held the phone up.

‘Guten Abend,’ she said when her beaming face appeared. She looked beautiful, as always, her blonde hair coiffed to perfection, her green eyes twinkling in the muted lighting. Her phone was propped up on a crisp white tablecloth, so I got to see the whole envy-inducing image of her lounging in a warmly lit corner of a bustling restaurant.

‘Good evening to you too,’ I responded and tossed the film into my basket. ‘How’s Germany?’ I wished I could have been more specific but she moved around so much and with so little notice that if she hadn’t just greeted me in German, I would have completely forgotten where she was. It never used to bother me too much when I saw her off in all of these places that I had never even come close to, because I always thought that I’d be having my own adventure when the time was right. I’d thought that, eventually, my crippling fear of flying would subside and I’d be able to jet off wherever I wanted when the time came. But time had been and gone and I still hadn’t set foot very far outside the UK. So now, whenever she called from Germany or China or Denmark, I got a pang of FOMO in my gut that set me off kilter for a moment or two.

‘Cold,’ she answered. ‘Nothing much more to report. We’re wrapping up here and so I’m going to have some free time in the next month. Wondered if I could come and see you and crash in a spare bed?’

I sucked my teeth as I pretended to ponder the question and shook my head. ‘Oh, I don’t think that’s going to be possible.’

‘Damn it, the gutter it is then.’ We both chuckled and the sound of wine sloshing into a glass could be heard down the line.

‘Sounds like you’re enjoying yourself.’ I turned at the end of the aisle and made my way to the pizza section where Ned would, no doubt, be facing his weekly conundrum: four cheese or ham and mushroom.

‘I’m just out for drinks with a couple of co-workers.’ She picked up the phone and turned it to show me the other five people chatting animatedly at the table. I recognised one of them as Piero. She’d had a casual romance with him ever since they met on a job in Italy a few years ago. I’d never met him and I doubted I ever would. She liked him, but my mother’s true love was her work and no man was ever going to get between those two. She placed the phone back on the table and reclined in her chair. Her cream silk dress clinging to a body that a woman who never set foot in a gym had absolutely no right in having.

‘How are things with you? How’s Ned?’ she asked as she lifted a glass of red to her lips and sipped.

‘Ned’s fine. We’re just getting dinner.’ I didn’t carry on but something about the look on my face must have betrayed me.

‘What aren’t you telling me?’

I sighed and lowered my voice as

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