Blargh, and you can get out of my head too, Saranya Ji, I thought as I glanced at my laptop on the coffee table. I hadn’t told Marcia and Pete that last bit of what Saranya Ji had said, though I was pretty sure that they sensed I wasn’t ‘so happy’. Anyway, people weren’t going to look at me for much longer and see success; they were going to see a closing-down sale and my house on the market. I had to find a way to present the changes to the world in a positive light, as though it was all intended, another step on my business plan, and not like I had failed in work and in life. Saranya Ji had said that things were going to change, though she hadn’t specified how. Maybe the collapse of my business wasn’t what she had meant; maybe she had imagined that the change would be internal, because I did feel that I was changing inside as well as outside, and that striving for success at work and having the perfect house didn’t hold the appeal it once had. If I was honest with myself, having someone to share it all with was more important, though I hadn’t let myself go down that route of thinking for a long time. I felt a sudden yearning for my family. I did miss them at times like this. I got up, hauled my photo albums off the bookshelf and took them over to the sofa, where I began to look through, just to see their faces. Mum. Dad. Matthew. Mark. I flicked back to pages showing times with them in my twenties, my thirties, my teenage years. Marcia would love this, I thought as I spotted various past boyfriends smiling out of faded photographs. Andrew, Kevin. Bruno … Why not? I thought as I found a pad of paper and pen and began to write. If nothing else, it would keep Marcia happy.

The romantic life of Bea Brooks.

1) Aged 10 years: Andrew Murphy. St Mark’s, Manchester. Preferred my friend Denise.

2) 15 years: Mark Crosby. Manchester. Had a schoolgirl crush on him along with most of the girls in our year. Not really a contender.

3) 15. Kevin Grisham. Manchester. My first proper boyfriend and we swore to love each other for ever. His family moved away, I was heartbroken for months, and we wrote for a while then it faded. Don’t know where he is now, though. Devon seems to ring a bell.

4) 17 years: Jim Winstanley. Manchester. Lousy kisser and he often tasted of the cheese and onion crisps he liked so much. Lasted one date. Do not pursue.

I crossed him off the list. He wasn’t even worth mentioning.

5) 17 1/2. Bruno Romano. My brother Matthew’s exchange friend from Italy.