‘Nothing since. Marion – the woman who ran the bed and breakfast we stayed at – emailed me to say he’s gone to ground again. But no one’s worried this time.’

‘But what about you?’ Monica was hardly audible, empathy seemed to have affected her vocal cords. ‘Isn’t your heart breaking? You’ve done all that with him, given him your virginity, and you don’t know when you’ll see him again?’

Laura longed to say yes, her heart was breaking, but she couldn’t. She thought carefully, trying to express herself in a way that was truthful, but that wouldn’t have Monica sending her off for some sort of therapy involving bars, vodka and male strippers, which she would do if she told her everything. No suitable phrases sprang to mind.

‘Well?’ Monica pressed. She was obviously getting worried.

Laura decided she might as well tell Monica the truth. At least her friend cared. She just wouldn’t tell her how much it was hurting.

‘To be honest, yes, my heart is breaking,’ she said. ‘But I don’t mind, not really. It’s hard to explain, but that time with Dermot was so – special, though in some ways, it was just sex.’ Although she was the one who’d said them, the words were almost physically painful. ‘It was sex with someone I’d admired for years, and years,’ she went on as breezily as she could, ‘since I was at university. If he wanted – me’ – she baulked at referring to her virginity, although Monica had – ‘I was more than happy for him – to give myself – oh, I don’t know how to put it. I’m just trying to say, I knew what I was doing. I knew nothing would come of it and I did it anyway. No regrets.’ She hadn’t known quite so well that nothing would come of it until later, but still, the principle was the same.

‘What, no regrets at all? Come on, Laura, this is me you’re talking to,’ Monica pushed.

‘I wouldn’t have done anything different. I knew what he was like. I didn’t expect anything different. And what I had was so fantastic! He took such pains to make me – enjoy it. Really, Monica, I know I’m going to feel a bit sad for a while, but I’m also happy.’

Monica sighed. ‘I suppose I do understand. He will have spoilt you for anyone else, you know that.’

‘Yes, but there will be someone else. I’m not going to cling to my moment of happiness and not look for more. Obviously, I’m not up for going on the pull any time soon’ – she said this so Monica wouldn’t suggest the bars and male-stripper cure – ‘but I will “love again”.’ She smiled to highlight her irony and then added, ‘After the festival and about ten years have passed.’