‘You’ll keep her company when I’m away,’ he says, as if he’s talking about a pet or a young child. ‘She gets bored easily.’

I nudge him playfully. ‘We’ll be busy partying day and night, won’t we, Sophie? No time to get bored round here!’

Thank goodness for friends.

‘Oh, I miss you two being together already!’ she says, getting into her black, sporty Mercedes-Benz. ‘It’s like Ant with no Dec, or Bill with no Ben.’

‘Get to your meeting or you’ll be late, you rascal!’ says Jack. ‘I’ve bags to pack and need to say goodbye to my wife, wink, wink!’

Sophie skips off to her car, then zooms out of the driveway and beeps the horn as we wave her off. I’m smiling on the outside but on the inside I’m in pieces.

How can I keep on pretending that nothing happened last night? I shouldn’t be feeling this way about someone else when I’ve got the world at my feet right here. Jack lights up my whole life, Sophie is great fun and I’ve so much going for me. So why am I still feeling like I’ve a huge weight in my gut that just won’t go away?

Do I still love Tom Farley? Did I ever even love him or know him well enough in the first place? I’m torturing myself with guilt, anger, regret, lust and utter confusion, and it has to stop. I just don’t know how to make it stop.

‘I’ll nip out shortly to the cleaners now and grab those two suits,’ says Jack. He chats on about how much he has to do and how he’ll do it when he finishes one more coffee and reads the paper, but I can barely concentrate as I follow him back into the kitchen.

Why am I holding onto the past like this when I’ve so much in the present and a wonderful future in the palm of my hand?

‘Sophie’s right,’ he says, straightening out the newspaper with a flick of his wrist when he sits back on his perch. ‘They’re really going to town wondering who the mystery lady is who inspired this new number one hit by Blind Generation. Must be a slow news day. Surely you’d know, Charlotte? You should call them up and ask them to make you an offer to reveal all. Make a fortune.’

He laughs to himself, thinking it’s so funny, but I’m not laughing at all. I tighten my dressing gown at the waist and close my eyes for a moment and when I open them, Jack has stopped laughing too.

His face drops.

‘Charlotte, what’s wrong?’ he asks. He gets up quickly and comes to me. ‘Charlotte? You really are scaring me. You don’t look well at all.’