‘I missed you too,’ I tell her, although I’m not sure if it’s out of honesty or politeness. I’m trying desperately to remember if we had this conversation originally, but I’m drawing a complete blank.

Alice coughs and fiddles with her fringe. She keeps her gaze fixed straight ahead as she says, ‘It sounds stupid, but I always felt like Daphne had a weird … thing about me. That maybe she didn’t like me very much?’

I try to work some moisture into my mouth. ‘No … I don’t think that’s true.’

Alice just nods, but she doesn’t look convinced. I can’t think of anything more to say, so I just keep quiet. A boat full of rowdy tourists in Santa hats drifts past, and I scour my brain for a change of subject.

Before I can find one, she carries on: ‘So, how come you guys split up, then? If you don’t mind me asking?’ That same studiedly casual tone has slipped back into her voice, as if we’re talking about a two-week fling rather than a nine-year relationship.

I try to keep my voice as steady as hers. ‘Well, we didn’t really split up. I mean, technically we’re not together right now, but—’

‘Something must have changed, though?’ she cuts in. ‘If she’s in New York, and you’re here?’

‘Yeah. I guess. It’s … complicated.’

‘Mmm,’ she says. ‘Yeah, it sounds like it.’ Her face is blank – totally unreadable. But then she stops in front of a big flight of stone stairs and turns to smile at me. ‘Anyway, here we are. Next stop.’

Thankfully, all talk of Daphne dries up after that.

We head up and onto the Left Bank, where we eat the same incredible steak-frites at Le Relais de l’Entrecôte restaurant in Montparnasse. And after that, we retreat to the same crowded little piano bar in Denfert-Rochereau, where we huddle up at the same corner table and see off what is almost certainly the same bottle of house red. I just sit there, feeling increasingly drunk, listening to Alice talk about her co-workers, occasionally pouring scorn on them with an acidity I definitely don’t recall from the first time around. Everything is beginning to blur at the edges now, starting to feel scary and unreal. Because I know what will happen once we leave this restaurant, and I have no idea what I should do when it does.

Even though Alice has stopped grilling me about her, I still can’t get Daphne out of my mind. Something Mum said to me during that Monopoly game comes back suddenly: you and Daphne seem to have a relationship that’s worth working at. That’s what I was supposed to be doing here in Paris: working at it. When really I was sitting in this bar doing the exact opposite.

And then it hits me … Mum.