‘Right. What’s really going on, because there is no way this is about a vegan dinner or how much preps the lads have done for lunch. Everything looks very much under control in there.’

Erin sat down, and pulled her chef’s hat off, her dark brown curls escaping from under her hair net. Her face, Jo noted, was still red and her blue eyes were now red-rimmed too.

Jo hunkered down in front of her and took her hands. ‘You’re kind of scaring me now, Erin. What is it?’

Erin shook her head. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m being an asshole.’

‘Just tell me what’s wrong,’ Jo pleaded.

‘Don’t hate me,’ Erin said. ‘I’ve tried to tell you, but I didn’t know how, but I can’t leave it any longer.’

Jo ran through every possible scenario in her head. Well, all the really, really bad ones anyway. Was her best friend dying? Going to jail? Had she robbed Jo of all her worldly goods to feed a drug/gambling/shopping addiction? ‘Okay,’ she began, ‘well, there’s nothing you could do to make me hate you, outside of hooking up with Tom Hardy. You know that’s an instant friendship killer.’ Jo tried to keep her voice light, but she was panicked that Erin was about to drop a bombshell.

Erin took a couple of deep breaths, then looked up and directly at Jo. ‘You know I love you and you are my best friend. You know we have had the best times together and I couldn’t ask for a better housemate.’

‘I love you too,’ Jo muttered, her friend’s words having done nothing to calm her.

‘You see, Aaron and I are getting pretty serious. And… well, he wants me to move in with him. And I do want to. I really love him. But I don’t want to let you down and I know you can’t afford the flat on your own, but you’ve been spending more and more time with your mum and Clara and I…’

‘Oh,’ Jo said as she tried to wrap her head around what Erin had told her. She was delighted, of course, that her friend had found love. She liked Aaron. He was a nice person and he treated Erin very well indeed. But she had been looking forward to moving back to their girly pad when her dad got home and resuming their well-oiled living arrangement. She liked her flat. Her room. Her life.

‘He asked me a few weeks ago and I know if you can’t keep the flat on, then maybe we need to give notice, or I could help you find somewhere new, or make some arrangement and I hate that I’m letting you down, but Aaron needs a decision and it’s causing a little bit of tension between us and—’