‘I thought you might open with which celebrities you talked to in the toilets but this is big news.’ Jess shuffled around the table and settled into the seat beside mine, giving me a tight sideways hug. ‘What happened? I mean, I’m so sorry.’

I passed her two sugar packets which she immediately tore open and dumped into her coffee. ‘Don’t be, it’s definitely for the best.’

‘Have you been practising that?’

‘Yes,’ I admitted, tucking a freshly washed chunk of hair behind my ear only for it to immediately spring back out. The Sheffield frizz was real. ‘But I think it’s true. Things haven’t been good between us for a while but I still can’t quite believe it’s over.’

Jess pulled a spare hair elastic off her wrist and handed it to me without a word. ‘Should I ask how Stew’s taking it? I’m assuming he didn’t initiate things.’

‘He seems OK but he also left before I woke up this morning,’ I said, pulling my damp hair back into a ponytail. ‘There was a sort-of fight, obviously, then a bit of crying and then it was done. If I’m being honest, it was mostly just weird. I thought there would be more shouting and slamming doors, but once it was done, he heated me up some shepherd’s pie, we watched telly for a bit, then went to bed. Separate beds,’ I added before she could ask. ‘I don’t think it’s entirely sunk in yet.’

‘These respectful, conscious uncouplings are the worst,’ she said as she tucked into her muffin. ‘You need a lot more rage for a clean break, a good slanging match, maybe smash a few plates. Breaking up is much easier when you really hate the other person, but I’m proud of you and you know I’m here if you need anything at all.’

I nabbed a crumb of muffin from her plate before she could devour the whole thing. ‘Since you’re offering, I might need some help flat hunting? Last night I slept in the spare room but I’m going to have to find somewhere to live sooner rather than later. Slightly terrified of living on my own but if you can do it …’

‘Well then, problem solved,’ Jess replied, looking delighted. ‘Neither of us has to live on our own. Come and stay with me.’

‘Oh, no, I couldn’t.’

She raised her eyebrows at me over the rim of her coffee cup. ‘Was it fun sleeping in the spare room with your ex next door?’

‘Not especially.’

‘And do you think it’ll be more fun or less fun a week from now?’

‘Less fun?’

‘And how long do you think you’ll be able to stay civil with each other, living under the same roof while you’re mid-breakup?’