‘Well, Kirsty’s on a date with a sailor,’ I said, keeping it light, and he laughed at the very idea of it. Kirsty’s love life always did entertain us, no matter what else was going on in the world. ‘Only Kirsty could go to the gym and meet her very own Popeye.’

Tom paused for a moment.

‘I miss your humour,’ he told me from his apartment in London, which looked very white and smart from what I’d seen on video calls. ‘God, this is really shit, isn’t it, Charlie? We’re just going in totally different directions and it’s killing me inside.’

I knew what was coming.

‘I’ve met someone, Charlotte,’ he said to me suddenly. The fact he called me Charlotte made the gap feel even wider. ‘I wasn’t looking for someone, but it just happened.’

I wasn’t surprised at all, but it still wasn’t easy to hear. If truth be told, I’d been enjoying my daily chats with Jack, and although I knew it was nothing more than friendship, it had made me realize that Tom and I were going in very separate ways.

‘It’s that girl, Claire, isn’t it?’ I said to him, grasping a soft woollen throw from the back of the sofa and pulling it towards me for comfort. ‘The one from the record label who took you all to the States in the summer?’

More silence.

‘I’m not mad at you, Tom,’ I whispered as my heart cried sore for what we were facing up to at long last. ‘I don’t expect you to wait for me forever. You’ve been so patient for so long, but I can’t hold you back any longer.’

His voice cracked a little, just like it did that day when we first met, which told me he was nervous.

‘She’s a really nice girl, Charlie.’

I closed my eyes tight and was so glad he couldn’t see me.

‘I’m sure I’d really like her.’ I forced out a fake laugh as I blinked back tears, feeling like my whole insides had just been ripped in two. ‘Look, we don’t have to kid ourselves any more.’

‘I’m not saying it’s anything serious, Charlie,’ he said, clutching at straws. ‘I mean, it’s been six months since we saw each other and I didn’t want to even like anyone else, but it’s a big lonely place here and—’

I just wanted this conversation to stop already. ‘Tom, please!’ I begged him. ‘You’re thirty-three years old, you sing in a band that’s going places, you’re living your big dream and I live in a different country. Like you say, we’re going in different directions. I think the world of you, Tom, but I can’t keep this hold on you. You deserve more.’