‘But what?’ I interrupted. ‘But it doesn’t excuse me being such a bitch? Or are you just pissed at me because I wouldn’t sleep with you?’ I spat.

Ben jumped up, his chair scraping across the linoleum. He took slow, steady breaths, gripping the table.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ He wrenched his coat from the back of the chair and took off, slamming the front door so hard the flat shook.

I launched at the wall, pummelling my fists into the smooth white plaster. Why did I have to say that? Why did I lash out when I was hurt? He would move out, I was certain of it.

My phone rang before any real damage had been done to the wall or my hands. I knew who it would be before I looked at the screen. Taking a deep breath, I answered before it went to voicemail.

‘Hi Debbie. How are you?’ I said as cheerily as I could.

Three hours later, once I’d popped my repeat prescription for diazepam into the doctors’, we sat at a table in the window of Baristas, both nibbling on toasted paninis. I’d planned to spend some more time on the internet, so I was killing two birds with one stone.

‘How’s the reshuffle been?’ I asked, not only as an opener, I was curious. There were never any awkward silences with Debbie, she could fill hours with mindless chatter, which wasn’t a bad thing.

‘It’s been so stressful. They scored us, and we had a round of interviews. In the end, the other poor lady was made redundant, which obviously is good for me, but I’m doing the work of two people now. It’s ridiculous! Anyway, how about you? Have you recovered from the attack?’ If only it was that simple. Debbie had no idea. The only thing she’d had to recover from was a warning after she leaked sensitive information internally. She was the most tactless human resources representative I’d ever met.

‘Getting there. I’m having counselling. How is my replacement, she any good?’ I couldn’t help but ask; perhaps I needed the ego boost?

‘She’s all right, not a patch on you though. It’s taking her a while to settle in. She’s got all sorts of problems; she’s going through a divorce and her eldest child has been diagnosed as having autism.’ Same old Debbie. No one’s secrets were safe.

‘That’s a shame. It must be tough for her.’

Debbie sipped her latte, a white line of foam painted across her lip. ‘How’s the job hunting going?’

‘I can’t do anything while I’m being paid my notice, but I think I might do a bit of temping come the end of November.’

Debbie nodded in agreement. Now would be a good time to slip in the lie.