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‘It means taking several pre-packaged items and putting them together to form another dish. Like some corn chips, a jar of salsa and a handful of cheese. Throw it in the microwave for a couple of minutes and hey presto – nachos.’

He winces a little like I’ve just insulted Mexico. ‘Bad nachos.’

I shrug. ‘It takes three minutes. I’ll eat gourmet after I become an attending.’

Of course I know better than most about the health benefits of good nutrition and fuelling my body properly, but I’m also perpetually busy and tired. Eating has become more about function than indulgence.

He shoots me a piteous look but doesn’t push. ‘Bob has a four-dish repertoire which he claims is all you need for an evening meal. This.’ He stabs his fork at the bowl. ‘Fried rice. Beef stroganoff and shepherd’s pie. But he also taught me how to make eggs and pancakes because they’re a breakfast thing.’

‘Oh.’ I blink again. So they do know each other well? ‘You’re close, then?’

‘I lived with him for a couple of years before I went to college.’

More blinking. Danny went to college?

‘My father, who died when I was a baby, he was Bob’s cousin and I probably only saw him briefly every few years or so. But when my mother got remarried – for the third time – when I was fifteen and I didn’t want to go to buttfuck Arizona with her and Waldo the wonderful, he offered me a place here.’

The derision in Danny’s voice tells me he has history with his mom’s husbands. ‘That was… good of him.’

‘Poor bastard.’ Danny shakes his head and laughs. ‘His wife had died ten years before I came on the scene and they’dhad trouble in the pregnancy department, including having a stillborn baby, so they’d never had kids of their own. He had no idea how to look after a teenager with a chip on his shoulder and an appetite that wouldn’t quit, but he just game-planned me like I was a military mission to accomplish. He was no gourmet but insisted a person only needed a few dishes to get by and that every guy needed to know how to cook. Compared to my mom who could burn water, it was a revelation.’

It’s way more than I want to know but I realise in his telling that I’ve assumed a lot about this cocky young guy who looks at me in such a direct way, and I don’t like that about myself one little bit. Not only had Danny gone to college but he’d never known his father and been shunted to a relative he barely knew as a teenager when his mother moved on.

Is it any wonder he had a chip on his shoulder? He doesn’t appear to have one now, but I wonder if the band and the tatts were a consequence of that time in his life.

My flip-floppy heart flipped and flopped again.

‘That’s how you know how to fix stuff?’

Danny nods. ‘Pretty much. I used to help him on his jobs. Which is why he knows I’m capable of handling the building while he’s away on his Reno trip.’

‘Does Bob ever win anything on these extended gambling adventures?’

A laugh bursts from his mouth. ‘I doubt it. I think it’s more a camaraderie thing, for him. Meeting up with old buddies, shooting the shit.’ Danny shrugs. ‘Whatever. He deserves it. He’s a good guy. He’s been good to me.’

I nod. ‘It sounds like it.’

‘He also bought me my first drum kit.’

‘So I have him to thank for the racket?’

A sharp laugh escapes his throat as his eyes twinkle – freaking twinkle – at me. ‘Him and rock and roll. Sorry about that.’

He doesn’t look remotely sorry as I wave his apology away with a flap of my hand.

‘What’s your band’s name?’

Danny takes a mouthful, which he bites, chews and swallows before he answers. ‘The first band I ever joined when I was eighteen was Garage Nights. The music wasn’t bad but we didn’t really like each other much outside of the band. The one after that was Penny for Them and the one after that was Gunpowder and Lace. My current band is Neon Dicks.’

I laugh even as I wonder if four bands in a decade means he doesn’t play well with others or he moves around a lot. ‘Colourful.’

His lips twitch. ‘We thought so.’

‘Any good?’

He smiles, oozing that confidence I have come to know so well. Everything about that smile, that demeanour, sayswhatdaya reckon?

‘I think you know how good I am with a stick.’