After a couple of minutes of musical escapism I realise I’m going to be late for Sasha, so I throw some money into his hat and continue on my way to the station.

Minutes after I arrive, I see Sasha wheeling her purple weekend case along the busy rush hour concourse. She looks unsure, navigating her way towards the exit barriers, commuters whizzing past and dodging in front of her, keen to get home as quickly as possible. It doesn’t help that she hasn’t got her ticket ready and inadvertently causes a jam in front of the automatic barriers, earning a few looks of irritation. I smile at her affectionately, wondering if this experience alone will be enough to put her off living here, but now hoping that won’t be the case.

Sasha hesitantly makes her way through the barrier, almost getting her case caught as she wrestles with it and her hand luggage. She continues to look exasperated and overwhelmed as I step forward to greet her, then she spots me and her face lights up like the Edinburgh sky at Hogmanay.

‘Lex. Oh, my goodness, I’m so happy to see you.’ She ditches her case and dives into my arms.

‘Is that because you’re having a total mare navigating your way round this station?’ I joke.

‘No. Obviously not. But this place is bonkers.’

‘It’s great to see you too.’ I give her a big squeezy hug in return.

She pulls back and looks at me properly. ‘If I may say, you look really well, Lex.’

‘You may indeed.’ I reach out and grab the handle of her case, pulling it towards us as someone almost falls over it.

Sasha’s eyes pass over my face searchingly. ‘This place is obviously working for you.’

‘It really is, Sash. I love it here already. I feel so anonymous and free.’

‘Well, here’s hoping I fall in love with it too, eh?’ She grins at me.

For a moment all I see is fourteen-year-old Sasha, with her long tumbling red waves, train-track braces and a face full of innocence and hope for the future. Excitement bubbles inside of me at the thought of showing my best friend in the world my new home – and exploring it properly together.

‘Absolutely. Are you hungry?’

‘I’m starving. Was so paranoid about someone stealing my stuff, I didn’t leave my seat at all.’

‘You’re a numpty, Sash.’ I laugh. ‘I’m sure your case would have been fine.’

We take the escalator up to Grand Central, bickering good-naturedly about where to eat before deciding on a Vietnamese restaurant that I’ve been keen to try. Once we’ve ordered, we settle properly into catching up.

‘So, how are things with your mum?’ I’m keen to get this out in the open quickly, so we can chip away at it gradually over the weekend.

Sasha’s face tells me this might not have been such a good idea. Practical, yes. But not necessarily a relaxing start to her weekend away.