I stare at the table, totally lost and out of my depth in these unfamiliar surroundings. Eva, who I take it is one of Ana’s supermodel buddies, is still to acknowledge I exist but I’m happy to sit here like I’m invisible. I also feel small, frumpy and ordinary next to her and no matter how many times I sit up straight and fix my posture, I know I’m totally way out of my comfort zone.

‘So, tell me Charlie, Charlie, Charlie,’ says Tom, singing my name, evidently having forgotten that his future wife is stuck in a hotel room in Dublin and can’t probably spell the word Howth, never mind pronounce it to a taxi driver. ‘You wanted to see me. How’s life with you? I can’t believe you went and got married and didn’t even give me one last chance.’

You wanted to see me. I suppose that is the truth, but the way he says it makes me sound like some desperate fan wanting a ‘meet and greet’ at a time when he really could be doing better things.

He says all of this totally out loud but the band aren’t one bit bothered by his big revelation that I should have given him ‘one last chance’. If he’d said all this to me privately, I might have taken him seriously but to do so in company just seems jokey, like he is paying lip service.

Eva snorts in response.

‘Ah, you must be another one of Tom’s girls who got away,’ she says, throwing her eyes up to the heavens and flicking back her long dark hair, all while texting on her phone. ‘Aren’t you the lucky one! Ask Ana. He can’t even be bothered to help her find her way from the hotel in the city. Poor girl only got two hours’ sleep and he should have waited on her, but no.’

The tension between Eva and Tom, who I’m unlucky enough to be sitting in between, is mounting fast but, when I look in Tom’s direction, he doesn’t seem to really give a shit. Could this have been me? Could I have been Ana, left behind in a hotel room in a strange city while he parties with his friends?

‘Can you get my friend a drink?’ he asks Eva, firmly and to the point, as if that’s what she’s here for. ‘I’d like to buy Charlie Taylor a drink. Hey, by the way, how’s your brother? I do think about him sometimes, you know. God, he really didn’t get it easy, did he? Is he OK?’