Sue comes over and takes our order and, when she leaves, Layla holds her hand out expectantly and I wonder what she’s doing.

‘Are you going to let me read it?’

I hesitate, before I find my phone in my bag. It’s not like there was anything particularly embarrassing in there and the truth is I need her to understand what’s in it so I can talk about it. I hand it over.

I watch her face as she reads it. Her expression’s switching from a look of concentration to one of amusement.

‘Who was Scott?’

‘Oh, he was my boyfriend from home; he ended up cheating on me and we broke up that summer.’

Layla nods and carries on reading.

It’s agonising waiting for her to finish; I’m anxious to hear her thoughts.

‘You sound so different,’ she says, looking up, wrinkling her face in confusion. ‘I never would have guessed you wrote this. You sound so …’

‘Fun?’

‘I was going to say energised.’

‘Ha, that’s a polite way of saying that I’m boring now.’

‘No, it’s a polite way of saying that you’re no longer eighteen. None of us would sound how we did when we were that age – thank goodness. In all honesty, I don’t think I’d be friends with that Edie now; she’d exhaust me. Give me Edie who likes the occasional spa day and box set bingeing any day.’

I laugh. ‘Thank you, I needed to hear that.’

I take my phone back and slip it in my bag.

‘You know …’ She starts to move the salt and pepper shaker around on the table, avoiding eye contact. ‘It might not hurt to take her advice a little and step out of your comfort zone once in a while.’

‘You’re siding with past me?’

‘Not siding. It’s just, it might not hurt to shake it up a little. Not timetable your life so much that your office manager can predict your every move. Perhaps not going to the same café every week.’

‘I’m not that predictable.’

‘Here you go, the usual, just the way you like it,’ says Sue, putting down our coffees in front of us.

Layla bites her tongue, trying not to laugh.

‘I like routine,’ I say, pulling my Americano towards me.

‘We all do; in fact, living with the twins I crave it. Maybe I’m just secretly jealous of yours.’

‘I don’t have a life to be jealous of.’

‘Oh, no, perfect-sized flat in a gorgeous building overlooking town, company director at thirty-five. Good-looking boyfriend. No, nothing to be jealous of at all,’ she says, snapping a breadstick.

‘Come on, you have a great life.’