‘Do you want to tell me what happened?’ I ask gently.

‘No. Bastard bingo will be more fun. You give me as many cliché break-up phrases as you can think of, and I’ll give you a point for each one he used.’

At least she hasn’t lost her sense of humour. I smile. ‘How many points do I need for bingo?’

She considers for a moment. ‘Four. No, five that I can remember. What’s your first guess?’

Now it’s my turn to think. ‘“It’s all moving too fast,”’ I say after a couple of seconds.

‘Strong start. One point to you. Next?’

‘Umm, he could go one of two ways here. “I’m confused” or “I think we need a bit of space.”’

‘Which one are you going for?’

‘Can I have both?’

‘Of course. He used both, so you’re up to three points.’

‘Oh, God,’ I exclaim, getting into the game now. ‘He didn’t try “it’s not you, it’s me”, did he?’

‘He absolutely did. Four points. One to get.’

I wrack my brains, but I’m coming up short. Sam is watching me over the rim of her glass.

‘Come on,’ she prompts. ‘You’ve got the hard ones. This is a total no-brainer. Stop overthinking it. This is Jason we’re talking about, remember?’

I stare at her, willing inspiration to come, but my mind is blank. After a while, she sighs expressively. ‘Are you seriously telling me you can’t think what it might be?’

I’ve played bastard bingo with her several times before; unfortunately, Sam has a bit of a track record where choosing useless boyfriends is concerned. I try to cast my mind back to the previous game, after Kyle dumped her, and inspiration finally strikes.

‘“I hope we can still be friends!”’ I exclaim triumphantly.

‘Bingo! Give the woman a prize.’

I step forward and wrap my arms around her. Hers come up automatically in return, and I can feel her ragged breathing as her mood plummets again and she begins to sob against my shoulder.

‘Why is it always me?’ she moans indistinctly into my T-shirt after some time has passed.

‘I don’t know.’ I do have a suspicion, but she’s in no fit state to hear it. One of the many things that I love about Sam is that she throws herself wholeheartedly into everything she does. She’s enthusiastic almost to a fault, and that applies to her relationships as well. I secretly wonder whether this ‘all-in’ approach to life actually intimidates the men she meets, causing them to back away, usually after a couple of months. Jason’s typical of the breed; I try not to track it, but I reckon they would have been going out for eight weeks on Sunday if he hadn’t dumped her.

I hold her until she gently starts to release me.

‘Are you OK?’ I ask carefully.