‘Oh, that doesn’t matter he’s still welcome, even if he is just a casual fling! And who knows, by the time we get to the party day you might be ready to do a Robbie!’

Great. We have now coined a new phrase. To do a Robbie. Which I presume means to get married in haste and procreate as quickly as possible, preferably with sheep in attendance.

‘Maybe not! I’m not sure he wants to move to Wales!’ Now she’s expecting me to be part of a proper lovey-dovey couple and she’ll be disappointed if I’m not. I need to temper her expectations. I don’t like disappointing her, she has enough of that in her life. I think she’s invested all her hopes for happy-ever-afters in me. Her only daughter. So far it isn’t going well.

In fact, it’s going considerably worse than even she expects.

How the fuck do I get a boyfriend before the party? I can’t even manage a first bloody date. And yes, I do know I’m swearing a lot. It’s a reaction to finding myself in a hole that I seem hell-bent on digging even deeper.

So, my fun morning with Bea has been kicked into touch by the news that 1. There is another sham of an anniversary party looming (at which I am expected to have an escort so that Mum can kid herself she still believes in love and romance) and 2. Robbie has a wife. And I can’t even get one bloody proper date!

I’m not upset that Robbie has fallen in love. I’m just upset that he’s moved on so successfully and I haven’t moved an inch. I am still the same girl he left behind. Minus the soft furnishings and other belongings that he took with him.

And minus his lovely family. Robbie’s parents are very lovely, especially his mum. She always said I was the daughter she’d never had, and she also said (though I’m not sure if this is good or bad, given the circumstances) that it was wonderful that me and Robbie were together because she was sure I’d want to stay local, which meant he’d never move away. She’d gain a daughter, not lose a son.

So, I’ve let her down on that front as well. And I tried very hard not to. Maybe that’s partly why Robbie and I stuck together for so long. Maybe that’s why I didn’t take the leap and walk away from him earlier.

It’s no wonder that she’s avoiding me now.

I miss her. I miss all of them. When I was in my teens, they were the security that I didn’t always have. They were always all at home on Christmas Day. They weren’t touring Europe in the school holidays – they went away for two weeks and that was it.

I saw more of Robbie’s family than I saw of my own. And his dad always teased me nicely and made me blush.

Bugger. I’ve let them down, and now Dad is going to give me his full-on disappointed look as well. If he even turns up for the party, and if he doesn’t it will be my fault. Because the neighbours will be gossiping about Robbie, and I’ll be standing on the sidelines wallflower style, an embarrassment.