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I glance up from beating the eggs, meeting Holly’s gaze. I wasn’t sure what she’d told them about me, but she’s obviously shared some info, which is pleasing. The fact she’s told them the truth, not tried to obfuscate or embellish, makes me inordinately happy. I guess a part of me feels like I might be a little too low-rent for her and her doctor friends. Or rather that HollyfeelsI’m a little too low-rent.

Okay for a little grungy alley sex but not relationship material.

Neither Denise nor Lucy are peering down their noses at me however, and Holly is looking pretty damn pleased with herself. Like her friends’ approval has slotted another piece of the Danny conundrum into place.

‘That’s right,’ I say. ‘I’m a drummer.’

They ask me about the band and I answer the usual questions, the small smile playing on Holly’s mouth stoking my confidence. I am clearly saying and doing all the right things, charming her friends, and her satisfaction is giddying.

‘You got groupies?’ Lucy asks as she pushes her finished bowl aside. ‘You gotta have groupies.’

‘No,’ I say.

Holly laughs and bugs her eyes at me. ‘Yes.’

My breath catches at the way her eyes dance all happy and flirty like she’s not bothered about the women who hang around our gigs because she had marked me in that alley. I smile back. ‘Not any more.’

‘Ohh.’ Denise nods approving at Holly. ‘Good answer.’

Holly grins and my breath catches again. She’s very different now to the woman who answered the door. That Holly had been worried about how this would unfold. But this Holly is suddenly confident, and hell if that isn’t heady AF.

‘And that’s your plan?’ Lucy says. ‘For the rest of your life? Playing in a band?’

I want to say something flippant like it’s working for Springsteen because I don’t think Lucy is being bitchy or judgemental. It seems like a genuinely curious question. But the answer suddenly isn’t cut and dried. The truth is I’ve never thought too far ahead.

But maybe it’s time I did?

I take a moment to collect my thoughts as I pour the first lot of batter onto the hot skillet. ‘A little while ago if you’d asked me that I’d have said sure.’ I glance at Holly, who is watching me intently. ‘But now I don’t know.’

The truth is being in Holly’s orbit has made me reassess my life. She’s so driven and goal orientated, which has really shone a spotlight on how aimless my life has been. I don’t think that’s a bad thing necessarily, I just don’t know if it’s enough for me any more.

‘I’m the kind of guy who takes it one day at a time and I’m lucky that I can earn enough money from doing something that I love to allow me to keep doing it.’ I turn my attention to the skillet, idly poking the edges of a pancake. ‘But recently I’ve been thinking about the future and maybe trying new things.’

‘Like what?’

I look up at Holly’s quick question. I can not only see but feel how invested she is in the answer. Would she prefer me to do something different?

‘I don’t know. Maybe something that allows me to keep more regular hours.’ Not that I think band hours would worry a shift worker. ‘And be more protective of my hearing.’

Now I’m being flippant and everyone laughs, but the truth is, hearing loss is a very real occupational hazard in my line of work.

‘And maybe,’ I add, ‘something that has a little more… meaning.’

I think that’s what impresses me the most about Holly’s job – it means something. That night she told me about the old guy who had died, I knew deep in my bones that she had made a real difference to someone. And that was inspiring.

‘Doesn’t music bring people meaning?’ Denise asks.

‘It does.’ I nod in agreement as I flip the first pancake. ‘But it’s often not tangible in anything other than the moment.’ Sure, you could listen to our songs on streaming services but that’s not like a CD or even a record. ‘I think I’d like to be… useful.’

When I fix stuff around the apartment block I feel useful, and that means a lot. It means a lot to Bob and maybe that’s him rubbing off on me. Despite what he must have seen, his time in the military hasn’t dented his belief in the basic goodness of people.

Look for the helpers. There will always be helpers.That’s one of Bob’s favourite sayings. He stole it from Mr Rogers and used to quote it to me all the time despite the fact the show hadn’t been on the TV for two decades.

Maybe I want to be a helper. I hadn’t planned on ruminating about my future here today but my thoughts are crystallising just by being in Holly’s company. For so long my life has pretty much just been a procession of unplanned days between gigs. Whiling away the hours until the next venue, the next stage, the next crowd. With no real direction other than getting to the end of the gig or the day depending on whether we’re playing or not.

Until now. Until meeting Holly. And it doesn’t seem enough any more.

Holly is clarifying. I feel like another Danny. Danny Zuko needing to shape up to be Sandy’s man.