‘Where’s the Marmite?’ Elle asks, sifting through the cupboards, glancing over at me through her nerd glasses. They really suit her, but she never wears them out. I’m pretty sure most people in our year don’t even realize she needs them. I wear mine all the time.

‘In the fridge.’

Elle wrinkles her nose. ‘Weirdo.’

I laugh.

Lady waltzes up to Elle shyly, wagging her tail and fluttering her little eyelashes. She’s such a charmer.

‘Hello, beautiful!’ Elle says, bending down to stroke her. She talks in this funny voice she reserves only for Lady. It’s silly and cute. I can’t help but think how different Elle is on any given day. How she moulds to whoever she’s around.

Here, though, it feels like this is the real Elle: glasses, mismatched PJs and all. But for some reason she can’t let anyone else see the real her.

The Elle who has an irrational fear of tiny holes (she literally can’t eat holey cheese). Trypophobia, it’s called.

The Elle who sometimes talks in her sleep.

The Elle who secretly wishes her dad cared a bit less about work.

‘So,’ she says when she’s finished fussing Lady and has retrieved the Marmite from the fridge. ‘What film shall we watch?’

‘Spirited Away?’ I ask hopefully.

Elle rolls her eyes. ‘Again, Saff? We’ve seen it a hundred times. And anyway, we’re too old for cartoons now.’

Cartoons. Elle clearly doesn’t appreciate the skill that goes into animated films. Especially Studio Ghibli films, which are essentially masterpieces.

I shrug. ‘You decide then,’ I say, trying to keep my voice even. She said I could pick but I know she’ll just disagree with all my choices.

I can’t help but feel like the mood’s turned again, like a storm cloud has emerged in the kitchen.

Elle eventually chooses for us. An action film Matty recommended. We watch it in bed with our toasties and I try to make out like it’s one of our old sleepovers, but it isn’t. There’s no funny commentary from Elle, no feet fights under the blanket. We just sit there silently and watch the film. Who actually does that?

And, even though she knows Matty’s phone is off, Elle still checks hers every few minutes.

I’ve started to question recently whether Elle and I would even be friends if we met now and not at primary school. Sometimes it feels as if I’m trying to put together broken pieces of our old friendship, but they no longer fit.

Izzy messages me just then.

Izzy: SAFF. Why didn’t you tell me how good Princess Mononoke is? I’m in tears!!!

I grin. She sends me a photo of her crying, her pet guinea pig cuddled up on her lap.

Saff: My Neighbor Totoro is still my favourite. How many have you watched now? Five?!?!