Simon Hedlund smiles, stretches his left arm out along the back of the sofa and crosses his legs broadly. He sinks back into it like it is quicksand. Sebastian Andersson is sat next to him, his back perceptibly straighter, leaning slightly forward, his knees together. It’s a small sofa, their legs don’t touch but they are close. He’s in his civvies, Hedlund in his tracksuit. They keep smiling. They may not be, of course, but they look relaxed and happy and like they are having fun. “It’s English weather,” says Hedlund, which it is. There is drizzle in the air, and it made things a damn sight more pleasant during the training session they’ve just finished.