‘What?!’ I say.

‘Explicit description,’ she says.

‘You asked.’

‘I did. Yeah. I did.’

‘What?!’

‘Nothing, Kat. Nothing at all. As it happens, you’ll be relieved to know that pending nuptials bring with them new levels of maturity. See, I’m mature. I’m saying nothing.’ She stops and I think I’ve got away with it. Not that there is anything to get away with. ‘Except this…’ Lou dances around my lounge. ‘You fancy the plumber, you fancy the plumber.’ She throws down a perfect running man and I’m as jealous as I am annoyed.

‘I do not!’

‘You wanna do rude things to him. You fancy the plumber.’

She’s bogling now. ‘Lou, I don’t!’ Her accusations ruffle my feathers.

‘Have you got up close enough to smell him? What does he smell like? Did it drive you crazy with desire? Like Mitch in Year 9? Kuoros.’

‘Sometimes you are a knob,’ I say, stirring food around my bowl, trying to let her teasing wash over me because I know that’s all it is, and I know I don’t fancy him. If I did, or if I fancied anyone, for that matter, moving on from Daniel might be easier. ‘Now pass me the wine.’

She runs back into the kitchen for it and hurries back with it wedged into the crook of her arm. She juggles bottle, bowl and glass, topping me up as she settles in beside me. We fall into comfortable silence as my mind wanders a little. Maybe I should fancy him? Can you make yourself find someone attractive? He’s a good-looking bloke, it’s true. But I have no urge to role play Poldark with him. I don’t think he’s really my type. If I even have a type. Jesus, I can’t even spot it myself these days. I’ve been institutionalised by Daniel. Bound to fancy him and him only. Or men that look like him. Or remind me of him. Or smell like him… No, not that. All of which is harder to do when your best friend keeps telling you he was a shit.

‘Okay, so you don’t fancy the plumber.’

‘I don’t,’ I say, relieved.

‘Fine. Understood. Whatevs. But what about the doctor, the one who asked you out?’

‘The consultant, you mean. Mark.’ I shovel a mountain of noodles in my mouth whilst I search again for a reason I turned him down. If there was anything to turn down.

Lou recoils at the sight of food around my face. ‘Attractive,’ she says, as I wipe juice from my chin. ‘So not the plumber and not the consultant. Jeez, you are high maintenance!’

‘Me!’ I almost choke on my dinner.

‘Will’s best man might be about to dump his girlfriend. You two would be perfect together!’

‘I thought his girlfriend was your friend!’

‘Not really. She’s a miserable cow. Do you know, the last time we went out for dinner she spent the whole time complaining the wine wasn’t good enough? At Nonna’s! As if. And she said the food was cold.’