‘Aww, you are right, you know. We are perfect for each other, aren’t we.’

‘You are.’

‘Bless him, I really love Will.’

‘You do, Lou. Thankfully he loves you too.’

‘Yeah. He does. Aww.’

I can picture the doe-eyed look she’ll now be sporting. If she had a cord on her receiver, she’d be twiddling it in 1950s pin-up fashion, looking down at a pewter-framed photo of her future husband, the only man who’s ever loved her for who she is: a right royal pain in the arse, with a heart of solid gold.

‘So, Nurse Kathryn of Sisterhood,’ she says, her mood instantly lifted. ‘How has your day been? Any hunky doctors joined the team, anyone you could strike up a friendship with? Or even a fuck buddy – surely you need one of those? They can heal over, Kat!’

And just like that, the drama is over.

‘They cannot heal over, Lou. That is a medical impossibility. Besides, it wasn’t that long ago.’ Which is part of the problem. I never saw it coming. We had sex the night before he dumped me – surely that’s not the sign of a broken relationship? ‘I don’t need a man, Lou, I have told you this before.’ I have told her that. And amongst the pain, I do believe it. Maybe I should get it made into a fridge magnet. A reminder each time I top up my wine, whilst microwaving a meal for one.

‘I know you don’t need a man, chuck, we can see you are an independent woman of independent means, and we largely admire you for it.’

‘Largely?’

‘Yeah, well, you know. Sometimes you might do well to soften up a bit. You can be a bit… what’s the phrase… buttoned up. That’s it. You can, though, you know.’

‘Buttoned up? Where’ve you heard that phrase? Do you even know what it means?’

‘It was on Call the Midwife, and of course I do.’ I notice she doesn’t explain, but life’s too short to push her.

‘Look, you know what I mean. You need to get out. Live life. See people. Do you even remember the last time you went on a date?’

I shudder at the thought of it, a thought I’ve buried deep amongst the student debauchery. It was a couple of months before I got together with Daniel. So roughly five years ago. An ex-colleague set me up with her brother’s flatmate. He wanted to show me his reptile collection, and though he assured me this was not a euphemism, it turned out it very much was.

‘You know I have a recurring dream about a python, Lou.’

‘Oh yeah,’ she says, remembering. Lou is the only person who knows about that date. ‘It wasn’t one of your better dates, was it? You could at least have had some fun on the holiday that never was.’ Lou is also the only person to know the truth about my bailing out on that one. ‘You said you were going to shag your way around the archipelagos.’