THE APARTMENT IS his again. She’s gone – he’s sure of it. They cooked up a storming fight over the long weekend. Booze, sex, boredom. Two days of that, and she reckons she’s leaving. He needs to sleep this one off.

Twelve hours later Dan wakes up. He is groggy. Dried out, sugary mouth, sticky with the whisky and Cokes. He lies there. Nudges up the blind to see the busy street below, lights turning on, night drifting into the city. Puts the blind down. Reassesses the situation. Past lovers came into it somehow. That was the turning point. His fault – might as well admit it.