If sleeping with Brendan Sullivan is heady, then actually sleeping with him is sublime. He’s a huge, hairy, cuddly teddy bear, and falling asleep and waking up in his arms is the safest, the most loved, I’ve ever felt.

I simply don’t know how I slept alone for so many years.

Tabs and I are having a sleepover at his place in Battersea. I call it a sleepover, but we haven’t actually slept in our flat for a month. It’s more of an extended sleepover. After I threw a tantrum over the ridiculous security presence Brendan had implanted, he told me firmly that as long as I was living there, his scary guards would be there too, keeping the stabby gang members away.

As a compromise, we’ve been staying with him and Mark more often. And who am I kidding? This place is a palace. Tabby adores the room Brendan has had set up for her, and I adore coming home from work, kicking off my shoes, and sitting down at that gorgeous Steinway to let the day pour out of me through the healing power of song.

It’s not ideal for Tabby’s school, but with the lovely and very attentive Yan on school run every morning and afternoon, it’s doable for now. That said, it’s a temporary solution. The three of us are finding our feet in this new relationship dynamic. We went through a lot this summer. Tabby’s only been back at school for a few weeks, after all. So this new period of good health and tranquility, of feeling like we’re floating gently downstream instead of drowning in the rapids, is very new to all of us.

‘What’s so funny?’ he asks, setting a mug on my bedside table before planting a soft kiss on my hair. He wanders around the bed and climbs in, tugging me back against him. I brandish my phone at him.

‘It’s Soph. Seems she finally interviewed with Ethan Kingsley yesterday.’ I try to keep my voice natural, but it still feels weird mentioning him to Brendan. He seems to think so too, because he frowns.

‘Go on.’

I glance down at my phone and giggle again. This girl is hysterical. ‘So, she thought he was an arrogant wanker, which she made abundantly clear to him during the interview, and they had a big fight.’

Brendan groans, but his mouth is twitching.

‘Nice one, Kingsley. Yet another woman alienated. So she walked?’

‘Not quite. Apparently the fight got them so worked up that they decided to go ahead with the audition part there and then, and he called Camille and told her to release the twenty-five grand.’

He grins. ‘Classy. So they hate-fucked right there?’