I nod politely as she dumps her bag and coat then goes into the bathroom to change her clothes. I feel wretched as I hear her take a shower, perform her nightly just-home-from-work ritual. Lottie and I have lived together for years. Boyfriends have come and gone; we’ve sat up through the night with each other when one of us has been ill or heartbroken or both. We’ve made this rather poky little flat into the closest thing either of us have had to a home. And now I have to tell her that I’m moving out, drawing a line under this period of our lives, and I feel sick with dread.

‘Shall I Deliveroo then?’ she says, returning to the living room with wet hair, loose-fitting yoga pants and her favourite, now badly faded, Nirvana T-shirt. ‘You definitely want Chinese?’

‘Yes, that would be great,’ I say, trying my best to sound upbeat.

I watch as she opens the app. She looks so happy. I feel like the worst person in the world having to do this.

‘I’ll fix us some wine while you order,’ I say, getting up and heading to the kitchen, guilt twisting inside me.

How can I do this to her after everything she has done for me? I remember how she brought me out of my shell that first, terrifying freshers’ week at Durham University when I thought I was going to end up spending the whole term locked in my room. I can still see her bright smile and mass of red, corkscrew curls as she bounded over to me in the corridor of our shared dorm.

‘Hi, I’m Lottie, fancy a cup of tea?’

Ten minutes later we were happily ensconced on beanbags in her room, sipping Yorkshire Tea, nibbling chocolate Hobnobs and telling each other our life stories.

Lottie had been brought up in Edinburgh with her mum, a human rights lawyer. Her dad had died when she was nine and, though she hadn’t been as close to him as I had been to Mum, she understood, more than anyone, the loss I had experienced. Not that she was one to dwell on sadness. No, Lottie was the perfect antidote to my natural shyness and introspection. If she sensed I was having a low day she would spring into action; organize a day of shopping in nearby Newcastle or a trip to the coast in her battered little car. And though I would usually be reticent at first, I always felt better afterwards. Whatever dark clouds had been gathering were blown away by Lottie’s positivity and exuberance.