No, I told myself, sliding one foot in front of the other, the air rushing past my face as I slipped back into something like a familiar rhythm. You are a gazelle, a gazelle on wheels. You’re Zendaya and Jessica Simpson and some other celebrities that roller-skate that I couldn’t think of in the moment. You are graceful and capable and you’re not thinking about all those celebrities who broke their legs on Dancing on Ice. It’s all coming back, it’s coming back to me now, you are Celine Dion and this is fantastic and—

‘Oh, shit!’

My left foot crossed out in front of my right and, before I knew what was happening, my legs tangled around each other and I hit the floor hard on my backside, my left cheek taking the brunt of the fall.

‘Ros! Don’t move!’

I looked up from the floor to see John skating over, crashing to his knees beside me. I opened my mouth to reply but all the air, along with my pride, had been knocked right out of me and I absolutely, positively knew I was going to cry.

‘Is anything broken?’ he asked, frisking my legs with brisk authority. ‘Does it hurt anywhere?’

‘My arse,’ I choked as I fought back tears. My face was bright red and, I was quite certain, I would have a backside to match by morning.

‘Well, I don’t think you’ve broken your arse, so come on.’ He pulled me to my feet and dragged me over to the side. ‘It was a good effort.’

‘I haven’t skated in ages,’ I replied, my words coming out staccato, pinched by several sharp intakes of breath. My left bum cheek was killing me. ‘I think I slipped on something.’

‘Yeah, you did,’ he agreed, unloading me into a seat next to Lucy who thrust herself upright to grab my hands, face awash with concern. ‘Your own feet.’

My bottom lip trembled dangerously and even though I had a thousand snappy comebacks at the ready, I kept them to myself for fear of bursting into tears.

‘Are you all right?’ Lucy asked, handing me her carton of Ribena. ‘You poor thing, that looked rough.’

I nodded, sucking through the tiny straw and wallowing in her pity. ‘I’m OK,’ I said bravely, adding a sorrowful sniff for good measure. ‘Might sit it out for a bit though.’

‘Still wish I could have at least one go around,’ Lucy said, watching wistfully as our friends tore around the rink. ‘Just for old times’ sake.’

‘We can come again,’ I promised. ‘Once you’ve had the baby.’

Lucy laughed. ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘Let’s put a date in the diary for a time when it no longer relies solely on me to exist.’

‘There’s always Dave,’ I reminded her.

Lucy replied with a look.