‘He’s giving it to me tonight,’ I say, taking a bite of the cake that Georgie must have spent most of yesterday baking. It’s the same recipe Mum used for all our birthdays. Strawberry milkshake cake, she called it, made with a spoonful of milkshake powder and lots of pink icing. Funny how Georgie still feels she has to do this for me, even though I’m thirty-two now and she’s got two grown-up kids of her own. But then traditions, particularly when you lose a parent so young, are hard to give up.

‘Well, Roger and Herbert and I are missing you at the flat,’ says Lottie, picking at a piece of strawberry icing. Roger and Herbert are the nicknames we made for two potted spider plants that live in our bathroom. ‘It would be nice to see you some time.’

She says it playfully but I know she’s feeling sidelined. I wish I could split myself in two.

‘So, when am I going to meet this new man of yours?’ says Georgie, bringing in a tray laden with mugs, sugar, milk and her favourite antique pewter coffee pot. ‘Lottie was telling me about him before you got here. He sounds interesting, and very good-looking by all accounts.’

I’m intrigued to know what Lottie told Georgie about Connor. On the few occasions they’ve met since that night at the Royal Court, the conversation has been rather stilted between them, which is a shame as I really want them to get on. Still, I suppose that’s just wishful thinking on my part.

‘He’s wonderful, Georgie,’ I say, indulging in the kind of straight, honest speaking that only a big sister can bring out. ‘We get along really well. He loves art and theatre and I can talk to him about anything …’

‘Art and theatre, my arse,’ says Lottie. ‘What she means is the sex is great.’

I shake my head at Lottie. I know she’s convinced that it’s all just a physical thing with me and Connor but she’s wrong. It’s more than that, much more.

‘Well, you certainly look good on it, whatever it is,’ says Georgie, pouring the coffee. ‘You look really well, better than I’ve seen you look for a long time.’

‘That’ll be the sex, eh?’ says Lottie, winking at me.

‘Sex?’ says Georgie, smiling ruefully. ‘Can someone remind me what that is?’