Frustrated, I pull out my phone, look up Matt’s number and hit delete. Sure, he’ll be disappointed. He might wonder what he did wrong, perhaps even think I’m just some tease who led him on. But I’ll be doing him a favour in the long run – he just won’t know it.

Chapter 11

Once I’ve recovered enough to get going, I seek out a taxi to take me to my new place. As the cab rattles along the busy Birmingham roads, past the huge high-rise buildings that would dwarf most of those in Glasgow, I look out the window curiously at the passers-by. It’s a far more diverse city population than that of Glasgow, something I noticed last time I was here too. A city that attracts all types of people – hopefully that will mean I can blend in here quite nicely.

The cab eventually pulls up alongside the residential development that houses my new apartment at the edge of the city centre. It looks just as it did in the pictures: a large modern building, with two floor-to-ceiling windows, allowing me a peek at the sparkling grey marble floor and white walls of the foyer inside.

I pay the driver and get out of the taxi, noting how fresh the air is in the middle of the UK’s second largest city. Digging out my keys, I flash my key fob in front of the door sensor and the excitement at the thought of walking across the threshold of my new place finally returns. This is more like it.

Once inside, I cross the foyer and get into the waiting lift. As it ascends, I inspect my appearance in the mirror, noting that I look a bit off colour. Not surprising really, given the way I felt before in the station. Perhaps I shouldn’t have had that second gin and tonic after all. Nor so much fun on the train.

As I tune in to my inner voice chiding me – something it never used to do – I stop and take a reality check. What’s the real situation here? Stairs were never my best friend. Now they’re my worst enemy, alcohol or no alcohol. And if I can’t have a bit of fun occasionally, then what’s the point in anything?

The lift arrives at the fifth floor and the doors spring open, bringing me back to the moment. I find my apartment and unlock the door, which opens into a tiny hallway. Closing the door behind me, I dump my bag on the floor, keen to explore my new habitat. It’s more compact than my apartment in Glasgow, but it does have a small balcony to enjoy the warmer weather the West Midlands enjoys over Glasgow.

My furniture and boxes greet me in the kitchen-living room and the bedroom, giving the place a welcome sense of familiarity. It’s just as I’d hoped. Aside from unpacking my things, which I can do gradually, I’m already moved in.

While exploring the kitchen, I find there’s a surprise waiting for me. The fridge is filled with some basic essentials, including milk, butter, bread and a block of cheese. Confused, I look around me. There’s washing-up liquid and a sponge beside the sink, and a pack of teabags on the counter.