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“I’m still here,” Carly said at the third one.

“I know. I’m just…” Lauren’s fingers flexed on the wheel. “Making sure.”

“Eyes on the road.”

“Yes, boss.”

But she was smiling. They both were.

Berkeley heard the key in the lock before it had turned. He was already in the hall when the door opened, tail sweeping the radiator, and when he saw Carly, he made a noise she’d never heard from him before, a rising whine like a kettle coming to the boil. He threw all forty kilos against her legs, and she had to brace a hand on the wall.

“Hello,” she said into his fur, crouching to hold him. “Hello, you. I know. I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been.”

He licked her ear, then her chin, then trotted straight to Lauren, leaned his full weight against her shins, and looked up at her with an expression of absolute ownership.

Carly straightened slowly.

“He’s yours now,” she said. “Isn’t he.”

Lauren looked down at him, then at her, suddenly uncertain. “He’s yours. Your dad’s. I’m only—”

“No.” Carly shook her head. “He’s chosen. Look at him.”

Berkeley chose that moment to sit on Lauren’s foot.

Lauren laughed, startled, and Carly felt something she’d been gripping for months loosen by a notch.

In the kitchen, Lauren filled the kettle out of habit and then stood holding it, as if she’d forgotten what kettles were for. Carly sat in her usual chair at the pine table. Berkeley lay across the doorway, where he could see both of them and the hall.

“So,” Lauren said.

“So.”

“Do we… talk? About it? Is that what people do?” Lauren put the kettle down. “I don’t actually know. I’ve never done this bit. I’ve done the bit before, and the bit after, the bit where someone doesn’t text back for three days. I’ve never done the middle bit where you sit at a table and say what you want.”

“Neither have I.”

“You must have.”

“I had a girlfriend for two years in the army, and we never once discussed it. We just kept getting posted to the same places, and then we didn’t.” Carly turned an empty mug round on the table. “I’d like to be clear about things. If that’s all right. I’m better when things are clear.”

“Go on.”

Carly took a breath. “I don’t want this to be casual.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t mean I want to plan a wedding. I’m not asking for anything long-term. I’m not asking for anything at all, actually, apart from…” She frowned. This was coming out like a contract. “I mean, I’d like it to be exclusive. And I’d like it if neither of us pretended on Monday that tonight didn’t happen. And I’d like us to tell each other if something’s wrong, rather than calling each other mate for three weeks and…”

She stopped. Lauren was looking at her with her mouth twitching.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Lauren pressed her lips together. “Do you want me to sign something? Initial each clause? I’ve got a pen in the drawer.”

Carly’s face went hot. “I’m making a mess of this.”

“No.” The twitch disappeared. Lauren sat down opposite, so they were level, and put both hands flat on the table. “No, you’re not. I was about to make a joke because I’m terrified. That’s what I do.”