‘Come on.’ I give her a nudge. ‘There’s plenty more shops like this to nosey at. According to what I read online, the Jewellery Quarter is “Europe’s largest concentration of jewellery businesses” and it’s become known as “the golden heart of Britain”. It’s an area steeped in history too. I think you’re going to enjoy what’s further down the road.’

‘You sound like a tour guide,’ Sasha giggles. ‘Obviously been doing your homework.’

‘You know me. Google’s my best friend.’

We slowly make our way along the street, which in itself is also appealing with its Victorian charm, lined with quaint cast-iron lampposts and cute red-brick terraced buildings.

‘Which one would you choose if you could have any of these?’ I ask Sasha, as we peer at yet another display of engagement rings.

‘I’d love one like that.’ She points to a platinum one-carat round-cut diamond ring, with smaller glittering stones embedded round the band. ‘It’s stunning.’

‘And expensive. Though I gather you save money if you buy from here rather than the high street.’

‘Useful to know, but it’s not like I’m even close to getting some bling like that on my finger.’

I put my arm round her shoulder. ‘The online dating isn’t going well then?’

Sasha makes a face. ‘Put it this way, of the last three guys I’ve been on dates with, one turned out to be twice my age, one conveniently discovered his wallet had been “stolen” when the bill arrived, and the other spent the whole evening talking about his ex-wife.’

‘They sound like a bunch of charmers. And you never heard back from the one you did sort of like from a couple of months ago?’

‘Nope. Totally ghosted me. Was probably married or something.’

‘Aww, Sash. You will meet someone good one day.’

‘I sincerely hope so.’ She sighs loudly. ‘Otherwise I’m going through this ridiculous torture for nothing.’

We turn away from the window display and continue down the street until we reach the Museum of the Jewellery Quarter.

‘Ooh, this looks interesting,’ says Sasha.

‘I think you’ll like it. It used to be a jewellery factory.’

We enter the museum and pay the cashier, who invites us to make our way through the two galleries before joining the workshop tour.

‘So, how about you? Have you heard from Dom?’ Sasha asks, as we wander round the bright airy gallery, taking in the exhibits.

‘No, and I don’t expect to. Dom’s not the kind of guy to ruminate. Once that decision was made, it was final. We only “talked business” after we broke up – to get the flat sold and divide our things. There was no sentimentality whatsoever.’

‘Did you not find that hard? You were together for a long time. I would have been devastated if a guy I’d been engaged to just switched off from me like that.’

‘Oh, I was hurt – badly. I thought he was so cold. Wondered even if he had ever really loved me. But I guess he was doing what he had to do to cope. Dom does feel things, he takes them quite personally, he just doesn’t know how to process those feelings, so he pretends they’re not there.’