The last two weeks at home are too busy to be worried.
It is a blur of buying things, of ringing Mara to know what not to buy, of getting keys from the landlord and working out how much he can keep in the upstairs bedroom, of saying goodbye to friends and relatives, of putting up with Mum’s fussing, of-of-of.
But then the last day comes around, too fast to mention, and he finds his bedroom emptied of all his belongings, and Dad packing his stuff into the boot of the car.
He runs off one last email before he brings himself to unplug the laptop and pack it away. And that note is, unsurprisingly, to Alex, and he hopes that Alex checks it sometime soon.
Alex,
Even if I’ve f****d up this thing between us, I still need to know that you’re okay. So our argument—or whatever it was—hasn’t got
