I went straight to Facebook, found Matthew’s page, and scrolled down to his friends. I soon found Bruno. His profile picture showed a dark, handsome man, but he looked younger than the fifty-something man I knew he was. Can’t be current, I thought as I clicked on his page. It showed his address as Milan but no more than that. He’d obviously put his privacy settings to friends only. I took a deep breath and clicked on Add Friend. There. Done. Will he accept me as a friend and will he even remember me? I asked myself.

While I was on Facebook, I typed in Kevin Grisham, my first proper boyfriend, who had moved away with his family, to see if he had a page. So many with that name came up: a couple in Devon, one in Manchester. Pete had given me an address for Kent but I couldn’t find a Kevin Grisham in that area. Next I tried Sam Gorman, who I’d been with at art college. OK, so he had been a dope head back then but if Joe Wilding could clean up, then maybe Sam had too? There was a Sam Gorman listed in Dublin, others in London, Newcastle, New York, but none that I recognized as the Sam I’d known.

On a whim, I typed ‘Jon Howard’ into search. Again no luck, perhaps my Casanova neighbour didn’t use Instagram? More likely to find him on a dating site, I thought. Which one? Guardian Soulmates? I went to their site but didn’t get very far because it asked me to register and I didn’t want to do that. No matter, why was I even looking for Jon? I knew where he was and wasn’t interested in him anyway … So. Back to Kevin Grisham in Kent. I found the contact details that Pete had given me. No time like the present, I thought as I picked up the phone and dialled.

The phone rang then a recorded message played. I panicked and put the phone down. What would I say? Bea Brooks here. Long time, no see. Am looking up past boyfriends because … Because what? I wasn’t like Heather who could come up with a story at the drop of a hat. I should think through what I wanted to say and be prepared. I’d call again later.

Thirty seconds later, the phone rang.

‘Hi, did you just ring here?’ said a man’s voice.

‘I … I did.’

‘Sorry, I was in the shower and didn’t get to the phone in time. Who’s calling?’ He sounded nice, friendly.

‘I was calling for Kevin Grisham.’

‘Who wants him?’

‘Er, it’s … Bea Brooks, I used to know—’

‘Bea? Bea from Manchester? I don’t believe it.’

‘Yes. Me, er … long time, no see.’

‘Certainly is. Must be years. Wow. I don’t know what to say. This is … this is synchronicity.’

‘It is?’