Tiff returned from the kitchen and handed Leah a drink. ‘I knew something was up when they kept asking Leah if she’d consider dying her hair blonde and having a streak put in it.’

‘One of them asked if we ever dressed the same and, when they heard that Tiff was a nurse, they asked if I’d dress up in one of her spare uniforms.’ Leah shuddered. ‘Needless to say, we won’t be seeing them again. What are you two up to?’

‘Nothing much,’ I said. ‘Just a bit of detective work seeing as my fiancé might have ghosted me.’

Tiff sat down on the coffee table. ‘No! Has he cut you off?’

I nodded, blinking back the ready tears.

‘Why would he do that?’ Leah cried. ‘Why would he propose then dump you days later?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine.’ I stood up. I couldn’t face going through it all again. ‘I’m going to call it a night. See you in the morning.’

‘Night, Jemma,’ they chorused.

Drew caught my hand and gently squeezed it as I passed him. He’d been so supportive. I don’t know what I’d have done without him.

As soon as I closed the door to the living area, I crumbled again. With Mum’s Parkinson’s diagnosis, if there was ever a time I needed Scott, it was right now. Yet, for whatever reason, he’d removed himself from my life and I felt completely and utterly bereft. Please let the company phone calls work because there was no way I could do what Drew had done and carry on for two-and-a-half years not knowing. I still felt like I had unfinished business with Dad, never getting to know who he really was – that caring side his colleagues and friends had seen – without having unfinished business with Scott too. Our relationship couldn’t be over. It just couldn’t be.

Yet it looked like it was, at least from his perspective, and I needed to know why.

My manager, Owen, sent me home the next day. He’d been out all morning so hadn’t seen me until I met him for a meeting that afternoon about a large Steiff collection we’d been bequeathed. He took one look at my pale face and the bags under my eyes and said, ‘Right, that’s it! The meeting can wait until next week. You look like death warmed up. You need to get home and under your duvet right now.’

I protested that I wasn’t ill – just worried about mum and a few other things. I couldn’t bring myself to say I might have been ghosted, especially since I’d been bouncing off the walls with excitement on Monday as I flashed my engagement ring at all my colleagues.