‘Either he’s feeling as embarrassed as you – possibly even more so given that he made a move, meaning all you need to do is reassure him that it isn’t a big deal. Or, he already knows it isn’t a big deal – he asked, you answered, nothing more to be said. In which case, he’s probably just been busy, or is giving you some space in case you feel embarrassed. Either way, a casual text, like “Hi, Joan moves to Chester tomorrow so if you and the dogs are in our end of the forest at any point, feel free to drop by and cheer Nesbit up” will show him that, like I said, it isn’t a big deal.’

The problem that Steph seemed to be overlooking, of course, was that to me it was a very big deal.

I did take her point, however, about one unbearably mortifying moment not being a reason to end a good friendship. Plus, if Mum was definitely coming to this party, I’d need as many allies there as I could get.

I took a deep breath, scrunched up my face and sent him the party invite.

An angst-wracked minute later, having received no reply, I realised that accompanying it with some sort of personal message so that he didn’t think it was a mass text was probably a good idea if I wanted a personal reply. Better late than never, I spent another ten minutes typing and then deleting until I came up with a suitable follow-up:

Hey, Sam – really hope you can make it!

30

Joan came out as soon as she saw the tent pop up.

‘We’re allowed to sleep in here?’ she asked, her entire body drooping to show that even camping wasn’t going to lift her spirits.

‘Yes. Ebenezer agreed, as long as we take it down first thing in the morning.’

‘First thing?’ She pulled a face. ‘His first thing is like four o’clock. We might not have even gone to sleep by then.’

‘We most certainly will have gone to sleep! And he said eight thirty is fine, which is perfect because you’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.’

‘Yes, like take Nesbit and hide in the woods where no one can find us, then build a shelter and a campfire and help Nesbit catch squirrels before picking berries and mushrooms so we’ve got some vitamins.’

‘Except that you hate mushrooms, and Nesbit struggles to catch a slug, let alone a squirrel.’

‘We’ll eat slugs then!’ She glared at me, but it was half-hearted at best.

‘Come on.’ I put one arm around her. ‘Remember the rule: no feeling all sad and sorry for ourselves this evening. We’re going to make the most of it and have the best time.’