‘Men come and go but your friends are a constant.’ I remember Georgie telling me that when I was drowning in misery at the end of my first year at Durham. I had just come out of a rather intense six-month relationship with Tony, a man I thought was my soulmate but who had decided to relocate to Australia. The temptation to spend the whole of that summer wallowing in self-pity was overwhelming until Lottie stepped in and suggested a trip away. We ended up having the time of our lives working in a vineyard in the South of France, where we were paid in sumptuous meals and gallons of wine to crush grapes and stick labels on bottles. It was fun and exhausting and we spent so much time laughing that by the end of the summer my broken heart was healed. Georgie had been right.

I owe Lottie so much, and now here I am about to put a man ahead of our friendship. What kind of person am I? But then I think of Connor and how happy he makes me feel.

Come on, Vanessa, I say to myself, pouring two glasses of wine. Be strong. Life can’t stay the same for ever. It’s not a crime to fall in love and want to be with that person.

I take the wine into the living room where Lottie is curled up on the sofa with her feet tucked underneath her. She looks up from her phone as I walk in.

‘I ordered Szechuan prawns and egg-fried rice for you. Your usual. It’s going to be about fifteen minutes.’

‘Great. Thanks, Lottie,’ I say, handing her the glass.

I sit down on the ancient, squishy armchair opposite her, take a sip of wine and steel myself.

‘Listen, Lottie,’ I say, putting the glass down on the table. ‘There’s something I need to talk to you about.’

She looks up at me, her eyes widening.

‘What is it, Ness?’ she asks, leaning forward, her hands clasped. ‘Is it Connor? You two haven’t been arguing, have you?’

‘No, it’s not that,’ I say, my heart thudding in my chest. ‘The opposite, in fact. Like I said, I’ve never felt this way before. We … we love each other and … we were talking and we both feel like we want to be together all the time.’

‘You already are together all the time,’ says Lottie, with a snort. ‘I’ve barely seen you these last few months. Sometimes I’ve come home to the empty flat after a particularly bad day and it’s been tough not having you to chat to.’