"Stop looking over my shoulder!" barked Andy.
"I can't help it," I bleated. "My ex is sat on that table. On a date."
"Well, stop looking," suggested Andy.
We left, instead. Andy glanced dismissively at both of them, just as the date brayed at something funny Adam said. "Hum. He's not bad looking, but did you hear his laugh? Can you imagine what he'd sound like in bed?"
I was quiet.
"Are you ok?" asked Andy.
"Yeah. Just... well, Adam said he spent every evening in hospital at his dying flatmate's bedside... and, well..."
As we walked down the road, a gentle laugh eeyore'd on the breeze.