I sink back onto the sofa, wondering if he’s referring to the bad birthday shag, our mutually non-orgasmic sufferance, when Jordan reflects on how much of a while it’s been since we were romantically engaged.

‘We can’t go on like this. I don’t want to,’ I persist.

I’ve imagined this moment a thousand times over, crippled with dread. Now the words have slipped from my tongue, it’s not as bad as I’d feared. My eyes don’t well up. There’s no cold sweat. I’m just numb.

There is a knock at the front door. ‘That’ll be Robert,’ Jordan says. He answers and Robert steps through.

‘Hello there, Gracie,’ he says. Sensing tension, he looks sideways at Jordan. ‘You’re not still grumbling over the show, are you?’ he says, a cheerful rebuke. ‘I told you, everyone’s impressed you’re dating a celebrity.’

‘Not everyone,’ Jordan says.

‘Yes, well, not everyone matters.’ Robert’s holding sticks with feathers attached on ribbons and a packet of plastic golf-sized balls with bells inside. ‘Is this a cat box I see here?’

‘It is indeed,’ I say, running with the diversion. ‘I believe Benny is somewhere that-a-way.’ I nod towards the kitchen and basement area. ‘I’m sure, eager to get you both cat-acquainted, whenever you’re ready.’

I glance at Jordan, who doesn’t respond.

‘We’re ready now,’ Robert says. ‘Thank you, famous Gracie Porter.’ He heads towards the stairs. ‘Come on, mate. We’ve work to do.’

Jordan follows him downstairs without a word.

I’m too physically worn out to ponder it now, but it’s an interesting thought, Jordan protesting we still have a sex life. How long must we be celibate until it’s more than ‘been a while’?

Is Harry flirting with me because it’s harmless?

I hear Jordan asking Robert if he’ll pick up the cat first and Robert is cooing sweetly to Benny, just as Faith does.

I close my eyes. Within minutes, I’m fast asleep again.

I wake in the middle of the night shivering on the sofa, despite that Jordan, presumably, has covered me with a blanket and Benny the cat is snuggled in the crooks of my knees. I’ve woken from a nightmare. In my dream, I broke up with Jordan and went boldly forth to declare my love for Harry, who promptly confessed his love for Faith. Faith! When in real life, I’ve never seen him give her as much as a single lingering glance.

I know dreams aren’t real, but I feel it so intensely – the humiliation. I’m irrationally furious, at Harry and at myself, at the events that just played out inside my head.

I slide Benny gently off my legs onto the sofa.