I couldn’t do much about the saris and scarfs pinned across the ceiling, or the airbrush mural of fairies that Mum painted on the living-room wall, so instead I did some de-cluttering. I reasoned that Ed wouldn’t be going in my room, so I piled all the plush Disney toys on to my bed and also put Mum’s life-size Kristoff cut-out in there. Then I vacced, washed up and cleaned the bathroom.

I actually cleaned the toilet for Ed King. How surreal.

Elsa and Pongo were predictably unhelpful, but food and In the Night Garden kept them both distracted.

I look at the bowl of crisps. Is it a bit datey? I mean, I know crisps aren’t datey, but somehow the bowl gives them a bit of a party vibe and this isn’t a celebration. This needs to look like serious homework is about to take place. I’m just about to take the bowl back into the kitchen when the doorbell rings and my stomach flips over. In a panic I throw one of Elsa’s jumpers over the bowl then follow Elsa, who’s already tottering into the hallway.

Through the glass of the front door, I can see the silhouette of a dark, man-shape. Just the sight of that tall shape makes me feel a bit breathless … Oh, God. Why did I agree to this? Then I remind myself Ed’s not a man. He’s a teenager, just like me. We’re just two teenagers who have to talk about space. Nothing scary about that.

I glance in the mirror to check there’s nothing strange on my face and that I look OK in my jeans and grey T-shirt. Grandad gave me the T-shirt for my birthday and told me it had actually been into space with Karen Nyberg. It hasn’t – the label says Topshop – but I still love it and you can tell how much I’ve worn it by the faded NASA logo. The doorbell rings again and I take a deep breath and tuck an escaped strand of hair behind my ear. I grab Pongo’s collar. Definitely nothing scary about this, I tell myself as I open the door.

And there he is, looking as tall and smart as ever. He smiles at me – at least, I think he does – but then there’s a flurry of movement as Pongo leaps towards his checked shirt, and I’m holding Pongo back and Ed’s passing me at the same time. Suddenly, we’re all squeezed into the tiny hallway and I can’t get out of the way because Elsa is sitting on my foot.

‘This way,’ I say, dragging Elsa into the living room.

Ed follows, then stops in the doorway and stares at the mural. ‘Wow!’

‘I know. Mum likes fairies. It’s a bit strange.’

‘It’s good. Did she do it?’

I nod. ‘She loves art.’ I look at the mural. I suppose it is good, but I’ve been living with all those little elves and fairies for so long that I forgot it was Mum who painted every single one of them.