“I’d really like to,” Izzy said. “Have coffee sometime. Or something.”
“So would I.”
“But no-one has a pen.”
“So what are we going to do?” Izzy was pretending to be helpless.
Emma kept smiling, and shrugged, pretending to be helpless too.
“We could meet here some other time…?” Izzy said.
Emma wanted to laugh. “Just tell me your number. I’ll remember.”
Izzy did, then said, “And my house is number twenty-one, if you forget. Just come and knock.”
“Well, bye,” Izzy said. “I’m sorry. I really have to rush.”
“Bye,” Emma said, and watched Izzy walk away.
She watched Izzy walk off, and then went home herself. Later, at home, she wrote Izzy’s number on a scrap of paper and put the fridge. Like a token, a symbol of something she needed in her life right now.