‘Jemima, stop!’ implored Simi.

‘No, Simi. This whole, if I can get this last client over the line then my life can start, it’s bullshit. That’s why she sabotages you, so you don’t succeed and she has an excuse to never start living!’ yelled Jemima. ‘And you let her because you’re too scared to be responsible for your life.’

Simi wobbled, the force of Jemima’s accusation knocking her onto the ropes.

‘Meagan was helping me and at least she didn’t try and sabotage my love life,’ said Simi glaring at Jemima. ‘I know why you told me lies about Chance. Because you’re in love with him.’

Meagan drummed her nails along the metal frame of her crutch. ‘Wow, you are hashtag squad goals. Stealing our men, stealing our stories. You want to steal my crutch coz you clearly can’t stand on your own two feet.’

Silence descended as the girls fumed in their own corner of the ring.

‘I just don’t know how you could do it, especially after Troy,’ Meagan continued. ‘I knew something fishy was going on but I thought you were going to church or something.’

‘I was desperate,’ whispered Jemima.

‘Yeah, well, you’ll be hearing from my lawyer first thing. After I’ve finished, you won’t be able to get a job writing product descriptions on the Tesco website.’

‘Oh, give it a rest, Meagan.’

Everyone looked over.

Jemima’s face drained as she saw Miles standing in the doorway, arms crossed with a towel around his waist. Meagan turned back to Jemima.

‘Yep, desperate,’ she said pushing herself up.

She clacked towards the door, barging Miles out of her way.

‘At least when we move to LA we won’t have to put up with any more of your shit,’ Miles sneered at Meagan before winking at Jemima.

‘You’re going with him?’ said Simi.

Jemima folded back into her seat and closed her eyes as the horror washed over her. Waking up next to Miles had been as bad a start to the day as she could imagine but clearly the Universe had seen that as a challenge. She exhaled hard suddenly aware of the tense quiet. She opened her eyes. Miles had gone, by the sounds of things, to the bathroom. Meagan had left, leaving the front door wide open in her wake and Simi was stuffing clothes into her black holdall.

‘Simi,’ said Jemima approaching her.

She continued packing, ignoring Jemima, who tried to put a hand on her shoulder. Simi brushed it off.

‘You and Miles – in LA?’ Simi snorted.

‘I’m not going to LA with him. I promise you.’

‘And the stories. How could you?’ said Simi as she collected up her toiletries.

‘I’m an idiot,’ said Jemima, her heart heaving.

Simi stopped.

‘You could have asked. It might not have been okay but you should have tried,’ said Simi, her eyes glistening with tears.

Jemima stood back helplessly as Simi packed. This was unbearable. Simi’s pain felt like emotional craters that plummeted down into the core of her soul.