I lock my phone for a moment or two and make another cup of tea. Glancing at the clock, I reckon I’ve got plenty of time for another before I have to leave and catch my train.

While the kettle’s on, I decide to do a bit of washing up. The little boiler on the wall creaks and groans like a teenager I’ve just woken up and asked to warm the water by hand. Still, I can’t complain. The cost of this place is actually pretty good for this part of the south east. Even though I’m just outside of London, not too far down the road they’re renting out cupboards for two grand a month. It’s still far from being manageable on my own, though.

Since Matt and I split up, my parents have been covering his half of the mortgage. They didn’t need to, but they’ve always been incredibly supportive. They know I couldn’t get anywhere else near work for the same sort of money. Not in a million years. If I moved further north I’d spend my life commuting and would spend any money I’d saved on travel. Besides which, this is my home. I’ve always lived in the area, and I’ve become attached to my little house. Sure, I could take on a lodger or a housemate, but they’d be a complete stranger. Everyone I know is partnered off and has their own place.

This place was ours. Mine and Matt’s. Well, it was always mine on paper. His credit score was so shot to pieces, and his income so low, it was actually better not to have his name on the mortgage. But it doesn’t feel right moving a stranger in, even after what he did. Besides which, it’s a tiny one-bedroom house and I can’t ask someone to pay half the mortgage and then pop them on a camp bed in the living room.

I pour my cup of tea and check my phone. There’s another message on Tinder from Tom.

I’m a sales manager for a tech security firm. We provide computer security gear for companies all over the world. All pretty boring, but good fun x

I think that’s the first and last time I’ll see the words ‘computer security gear’ and ‘good fun’ in the same paragraph.

Nice! Does that involve lots of travel? x

As soon as I send the reply I start to question myself. Will he think I’m trying to work out whether he’ll be around much? I don’t want to sound as if I’m already sussing him out for long-term relationship potential. Before I can worry too much, the reply comes in.

Some, but nothing too heavy. What do you do? x

In a way, I’m glad Tom didn’t tell me he was a fireman or a brain surgeon, because I always struggle to make my job sound interesting. I love it, though, and I guess that’s the main thing.

I work in events management. Again, pretty boring but good fun ;) x