I sigh into the mouthpiece, not as upset as I could be. Indeed, with Faith on the offensive, I feel, remarkably, defensive about Jordan’s actions. Or about my decision to perpetually put up with them. At this point, with the demands of his job, I must assume the not-really-a-ball is a work event. And there is always the chance Jordan will surprise me with a romantic gesture when he gets in after.

‘I never go out on Valentine’s Day,’ Faith adds. ‘I was thinking the other day, I haven’t had a boyfriend since university. Remember Carl?’

‘Now married with three children Carl, whose heart you shattered when you refused his engagement ring.’

‘Yes. I haven’t dated anyone for longer than a few weeks since Carl. That was over ten years ago.’

‘It’s not for lack of offers, Faith.’

‘Mmm. It’s a bit for lack of good offers. Not everyone I want to sleep with is interesting. Or kind. Or wants to see me for more than a few weeks. Anyway, Valentine’s Day. It’s next Thursday, right? Want to sod it off and come to my place and order pizza?’

‘Oh, darling, you’re kind. We’ll see. But thank you.’

‘Well, ball or no ball, at least you bought new shoes.’

‘There is that,’ I agree.

After I hang up, I go to the hallways cupboard and check if Zelda’s rose quartz is in my black coat pocket. It is – again, so oddly warm to the touch. I hold it inside my palm.

I’m not as low as when Zelda gave it to me. I didn’t lose my job and the new show is promising. Things could be better at home, but I’m having fun with Faith and, with Poppy’s help, I look better than ever – if this is the eye of the storm, I’ll take it. I don’t believe in magic crystals, yet I clasp the stone to my chest, wishing it will all come true, and soon: I want to feel loved again. I want to push on through the other side.

When I go to bed, alone, because Jordan is still in the basement, I sleep with it under my pillow.