‘Fine, yes, got the point,’ she said, cutting me off. ‘But this is different. I can feel it in my bones. I want a baby and I don’t want to wait until I’m any older to be a mum. I can afford to take care of a family on my own, I can afford to buy a house. Now is the time and I’m going to do it.’

I picked up a cup of yoghurt and dipped the tip of my spoon in thoughtfully. Lemon curd. It was OK.

‘Go on then,’ Sumi said. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’

‘I’m thinking about how everything keeps changing,’ I said with a sad smile. ‘And how this is the biggest change yet.’

Sumi set down her spoon and sighed, pressing her palms against her face. ‘Right, I’m sorry but I’ve got to say this. I love you, Ros, and I am so fucking happy you’re back, but this obsession you’ve got with missing your old life, with how everything was better “before” has got to stop. Before didn’t exist!’

I dropped my spoon on the floor and leaned over to pick it back up, hair covering my burning face.

‘Lucy had already moved in with Dave before you left and I only stuck it out in that shithole because I knew you wanted me there,’ she went on. ‘We weren’t ecstatically happy little elves, running around London shitting rainbows. We were broke kids, struggling to get by, struggling to be heard, and we made the best of it.’

‘So you’re saying you hated it?’ I asked. I was stung. ‘It was a nightmare, was it?’

‘No, it wasn’t a nightmare,’ she said, holding her hands out and looking up to the ceiling as though it might help her out. ‘It was brilliant and shit and fine and everything life is, depending on the day of the week. I loved my twenties but I’m also happy they’re in the past. It’s like you’ve convinced yourself it was utterly idyllic and I can’t work out why. Where has this “Everything was great when I were a lass” attitude come from? I’m trying to tell you I’m ready to move on to the next chapter in my life and you’re sat there wishing we were in our pyjamas in a house that didn’t have a living room, eating the Chinese takeaway we could only afford once a month and wondering whether or not some dickhead is going to reply to your text? It’s starting to get pathetic.’

I looked down at the other samples of yoghurt while I let her words simmer. Pathetic? I was pathetic?