Faith sifts through the boxes and clothes littered throughout my hallway. I sweat over the stains on the carpet and the sofa. As we go, I tell her everything. About the problems Jordan and I had been having for some time. How lonely I’d felt. How isolated I’d made myself. About the terrible birthday sex and his physical rejection of me ever since. That I didn’t enjoy the cocaine and wouldn’t ever do anything like it again. How I embarrassed myself in front of Harry. Throughout, Faith is patient and empathetic. My best friend doesn’t make a big deal about how, after I collapsed in the club, she worried I’d had a heart attack or a stroke, or that someone had spiked my drink. But she does warn me off getting romantically involved with Harry. Again.

‘Darling, we had this conversation. Harry’s lovely. But he’s our agent. It’s for the best nothing happened. Though, by the sounds of it, you don’t need to be embarrassed, you didn’t exactly shove your tongue down his throat.’

In no time at all, the place is looking – if not yet smelling – decent when, lo and behold, Jordan waltzes in.

‘Is it safe to come in?’ He’s hovering inside the front door. Faith’s in the basement. He doesn’t know she’s here.

He’s wearing his black Versace jeans, white T-shirt and black blazer. His ‘going out’ outfit. He has a three-day stubble on his face.

I’m startled to see him. I’d told him we’re over. He’d packed his bags and fled. There wasn’t a single message from him when I’d turned my mobile on – there were several from Harry.

You okay? H

Just checking in …

Spoke with Faith. Glad you’re being looked after. Text me when you’re up? H

Harry’s texts were about an hour apart. In the cab, on the way to the flat, I’d texted back.

Most embarrassed, but up!

Don’t be embarrassed. All handled discreetly. No harm done.

At least I didn’t do a Britney and shave my head…

Be a Kate. Never complain, never explain.

Harry, I’m the new Queen of Cool?!

Ha! Leave it with me

I’d wanted Harry with me in person after he’d sent that. I’d wanted to look into his warm, darker-than-chocolate eyes as he turned my mortifying misadventure into a funny soundbite, including a reference to Kate Moss. Then, he texted me this:

Ps I’ve had words with my sisters. They’re sorry and send their love x