‘Sounds a bit like you.’ Sasha’s eyes widen in horror and she puts a hand to her mouth. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that how it sounded.’

I pause in front of a glass cabinet containing an intriguing range of gold and silver samples that the factory workshop used to make. ‘Don’t be sorry. It’s probably true. Dom and I worked well because we never dwelled on anything. We considered ourselves quite resilient. It seems naïve now, because as much as it’s not healthy to wallow, it’s equally unhealthy to never face up to issues. As soon as things got a bit tough, we crumbled.’

‘I’m sorry. I really liked Dom. I’m also sorry I suggested a few months ago that you drove him away. That was unfair. I just didn’t want you to leave.’

‘I know that, Sash. No need to apologise. I’ve admitted that I didn’t face up to things. So in a way, you were right. I did drive him away.’

I look at the floor, expecting the familiar sadness and empty Dom-shaped hole I’ve been holding together with metaphorical sticky tape to burst open again. But the tape stays intact. Surprised by this, I do a self-check. Am I over Dom? No, I can’t be. Not fully. Not yet. But something has changed. As this thought works its way through my brain, it’s chased closely by another. The man from the train. Matt. With his gorgeous penetrating brown eyes, his endearing inquisitive nature. And his defeated look in the bar just a few weeks ago.

‘What is it?’ Sasha asks. ‘Something’s bothering you, I can tell.’

I look at her blankly, then come to. ‘It’s… nothing. Nothing at all.’

I move on to another exhibit, pretending to be fascinated by its contents.

‘Lex, come on. I’ve known you almost all our lives. Have you… met someone?’

A hot flush creeps up my neck. ‘No. Why would you say that?’

‘Because the look on your face there was exactly the one I’ve seen every time you’ve met a guy you like – Dom included.’

‘No, it wasn’t.’

‘Yes. It was. Who is he?’ She bounces up and down impatiently.

I roll my eyes at her overenthusiasm, aware that she’ll be very disappointed by the anticlimax I’m about to deliver.

‘Sash, there’s nothing to get excited about. I met a guy on the train. Twice actually. He was sitting opposite me and we got talking. He then asked me out and I said no. End of.’

She scrutinises me intensely. ‘Why did you say no if you clearly like him?’

‘I don’t…’ I realise I can’t fool her. ‘OK, look, I took his number but I didn’t call him. Just didn’t think it was a good idea, being so soon after Dom and I split up. I was still a bit broken from that.’

This, of course, is a half-truth. It was about Dom at first, but then it was about my MS. After the stairs up from the platform half-killed me.