When I went to bed last night, my plan for this morning was to go home and turn on some music, change into my comfy clothes, open the windows and get ready for Jack coming home tomorrow but all that has changed now. I’d planned to shop for some of his favourite foods, maybe steak and chips and a bottle of Merlot, and to welcome him home wearing something special.

We’d spend tomorrow catching up and making plans, we’d talk about all the usual things we like to discuss, like work and food and drinks, like his parents and mine, of Matthew’s progress, of Emily’s pain, of Harry and Sophie’s latest escapades, and we’d snuggle up on our very own sofa in our own little world as we locked the rest of the world outside.

Instead I’m standing in a terminal at Dublin airport, trying to find my way round through the hustle and bustle of students heading off for a new term at university, families and couples taking last-minute deals on September holidays and in the distance I see a commotion that can only mean one thing. Blind Generation have been spotted and a mob of fans have circled round them to try and get a glimpse of their musical heroes.

Tom is here, just like he’d told me, for a chartered flight at 12.15. My stomach is in knots.

I don’t see Ana or Eva with them but then I didn’t expect to either. It’s not like Tom would invite me along to join him on his chartered flight if his fiancée and bit on the side were there too. Even Tom Farley would know that was beyond inappropriate when he was trying to win me over. I’m better than that, I reminded myself. I’m not going to join a queue for anyone and I’m glad he has realized that.

I see him glance around and check his phone while crazed, screaming, lust-filled women corner him for selfies and autographs. He is wearing dark glasses and I can tell he is exhausted and dying to get away from it all. The rest of the band is attacked too by the fans but it’s obvious there’s only one main man, and that’s the very rugged, very sexy and very charming Tom, of course. A burly security guard tries to call some order on the gathering crowd and I wonder when I should make my move. I don’t even think he has seen me standing here, watching on like I’m looking in through a window on his crazy, wild life of women, music, travel and partying.