They trot off together, and I’d enjoy the rear view if I wasn’t so busy spiralling. Fuck fuck fuck. I put my computer to sleep and pick up my phone. Once in my camera roll, I scroll through to the People & Pets section. I still think it’s creepy that my phone is this clever. Sure enough, there are loads of photos of Daniel the Spaniel from over the years. I quickly rename his collection to Tabby and do a quick scroll through to make sure there aren’t any photos where he’s lying on his back and showing off his crown jewels. Now that would be tricky to explain.

‘Hey,’ I say breezily as I walk into his office. He’s lounging on the sofa, long legs stretched out, one hand on his flat stomach and one on Mark’s head. The fact that he loves his dog so much makes him a million times more attractive, in my view. Not that he needs any help in that department.

‘Hey.’ He pats the sofa next to him and sits up straighter. I sit down next to him and hold out my phone.

‘So Tabs is a golden show cocker spaniel,’ I force myself to say. So weird. God knows, I am not built for duplicity. ‘My parents bought her for me when I was sixteen, so she’s getting on a bit.’

‘Ahh, she’s gorgeous,’ Brendan says, leaning in to see the phone screen. ‘Look at her! What a beautiful coat. Sorry Mark.’ He caresses his dog’s smooth head. ‘Yours is beautiful, too.’

‘She is gorgeous,’ I agree. ‘And so are you, Mark. The coat is high maintenance, though. It gets so messy, because she loves mud, and she loves puddles. She’s basically Peppa Pig.’

He frowns, confused.

‘Who’s Peppa Pig?’

Okay then. Just another reminder that our lifestyles are galaxies apart. ‘Just a cartoon character who likes muddy puddles.’

But he’s moved on, taking my phone off me and scrolling through the “Tabby” camera roll. ‘Why don’t you bring her into work with you? Mark would love some company.’

Um, because one look at his little doggy penis and the jig will be up. Plus the small fact that Daniel’s not actually my dog.

‘She’s, uh, pretty anxious. She doesn’t like lots of people. I don’t think she’d feel comfortable here,’ I say hastily.

‘Oh no! Poor little thing. And who’s this?’

Brendan points my phone at me, and my worlds collide. On the screen is a photo of my beautiful Tabby, golden and gorgeous last summer, her arms thrown around Daniel’s neck, and a huge gap where her adult front teeth are now half-grown.