Tears spring up. I suddenly feel quite emotional. I reach for one of the taps, marvelling as the hot water gushes out, before quickly putting in the plug and pouring in some bubble bath. Harry appears at the doorway, sniffing curiously at the scent of lavender, and I think how it’s true what they say: sometimes not getting what you want can be a wonderful stroke of luck, because you end up with something so much better.

And, just like that, the black mood that has been following me all the way from London disappears. I’m going to have to change my mind about surprises.

STAGE 6

Love Your Mistakes

The Dales Country Show

‘I would have punched her, then I’d have punched him.’

‘You would not.’

‘Actually, no, you’re right,’ Maya nods. ‘I’d have punched him first.’

The following Saturday I arrange to meet Maya at the Dales Country Show, an annual summer event that attracts visitors from miles around. In celebration of the occasion, the weather has pulled out all the stops and it’s a true scorcher of a day. Spotless blue skies. Twenty-eight degrees. Not a breath of wind. It’s the rarest of combinations, and the crowds are out in force to watch all the different competitions, demonstrations and attractions.

Set over three fields, the show has so much to see and do, but as we haven’t seen each other since I got back from London, all Maya’s interested in is hearing about the party.

‘I said “Congratulations”.’

Now it’s her turn to stare at me in disbelief. ‘You did not!’

Weaving our way past a marquee, I shrug, shame-faced. ‘It seemed the sensible thing to do.’

In hindsight, I’m now rather regretting being all middle-aged and adult about it. Pride and keeping your composure is all very well, but it doesn’t sound quite as satisfying as Maya’s reaction.

‘What a head-fuck.’ She kicks up a clod of earth with the toe of her Doc Martens.

‘That’s one word for it.’ I nod as we pause by a stall selling waterproofs and wellies.

In fact, now I think about it, that’s the only word for it. I’ve spent the past week replaying the events of last weekend. Seeing David again. Meeting the woman he left me for. Discovering he’d got engaged, and my physical reaction to it all. I’ve been trying to work out what it all means, or doesn’t mean. How I should feel, or shouldn’t feel. What is the appropriate reaction. The healthy reaction. Because I’m pretty sure it’s not bursting into tears in the ladies’ loos, then sinking deep into a depression.

‘I really didn’t think the Dales Show would be your thing,’ I say, as we move away from the stall and head towards the exhibition of vintage tractors. When Maya had texted earlier that morning asking what I was doing and I’d told her I’d got tickets for the show, I’d been surprised she wanted to come too.

‘It’s not.’ She pulls a face as, over the loudspeaker, they announce that the sheepdog trials are starting. ‘But I wanted to tell you in person.’