When we did get to talk, it was as if nothing had happened, like we just drifted apart even though I was the one who instigated the separation. There were times I wanted to answer her phone calls. Especially over the first couple of weeks. I’d look at her name light up the screen and allow my finger to hover over the accept button. I pictured Tara at the far end of the call and imagined how apologetic she would be if I answered. It made me sad at first, to be cutting her calls. Sometimes I cried but I stayed strong knowing it would get easier over time. I didn’t expect her to move on so successfully, though, like none of it mattered. Like I didn’t matter. I was quite shocked to hear she was getting married. I was jealous. How fucking dare she?

Abba, now they’re playing Abba. My second least favourite band in the world. I know what will happen next. Every female – and some of the males – in the building, will jump onto the dance floor thinking they are in fact, the ‘Dancing Queen’. I turn to watch the ructions unfold and true to form, the floor is jammed. It’s so easy to predict the masses. It’s the ones sitting on their own at the bar you have to watch out for.

My eyes search Tara out. I can see her, dancing in the middle of the group. All hail Tara Moore… bitch.

I look to my right and catch Craig’s attention with my eyes. I stare at him and smile. He pushes through the crowd and arrives at my side. He’s really broad. I hadn’t noticed that the first time he came over. Craig reaches his arm across my back and lifts my glass.

‘What’s this?’ he says, putting his hand in the air to get the barman’s attention.

I know I shouldn’t, but it will take the edge off things.

‘Vodka and Coke,’ I say.

I’ll just have the one.

Craig orders the drink and I stare at Tara Moore. The first time I met her we were in the schoolyard. I was eight. My name was Faith back then but I changed it when I was fourteen. It was too spiritual a name, too Goody Two-Shoes. I didn’t want to be Goody Two-Shoes.

I remember resting against the back wall of the school yard when she came over, all shy and freckly. She clearly had no friends. At the time I didn’t want to mix with other kids. They were all so loud and knew everything, or had everything, or were getting everything. Tara smiled and I could see her two front teeth were missing. Tara didn’t have everything. We became the best of friends and now look at her. Dancing with all those other girls. I bet they have everything, or they’re getting everything.