The office is quiet. Rose and Gemma are still off sick and the rest of the team are out for lunch. I have a pile of emails to deal with still and an online presentation to prepare but I need to hear a friendly voice, need to feel reassured that I’m not the bad person Lottie has made me out to be.

Picking up my phone, I click on my sister’s name and wait.

‘Hello, darling, what’re you up to?’

Hearing Georgie’s voice makes me feel suddenly emotional. I swallow back the tears and try to sound as upbeat as I can.

‘Hi, Georgie. I’m fine, thanks. Just wondered if you fancied meeting up for lunch tomorrow. Connor and I are going to be in Chelsea and I thought it’s probably time the two of you met.’

‘That would be lovely,’ says Georgie. ‘Jack’s away on a golfing trip this weekend so I’d be glad of the company and I’m dying to meet Connor.’

‘Great,’ I say, typing a reminder to myself on my laptop. ‘I’ll book a table at Rossi’s.’

‘Nessa, is everything okay?’ says Georgie, ever the vigilant big sister. ‘You sound a bit down.’

‘I’m fine,’ I lie, flicking a piece of fluff from my jacket sleeve. ‘Just a bit swamped at work, that’s all. But I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. It’s been ages.’

‘Me too, darling,’ says Georgie. ‘What time shall we say? One-ish?’

‘Perfect,’ I say. ‘Connor’s dying to meet you too.’

‘Well, I shall be on my best behaviour,’ she laughs. ‘See you then, darling.’

‘See you, Georgie,’ I say.

Talking to my sister usually lifts me but for the rest of the afternoon all I can think about is Lottie. Fourteen years of friendship, gone. Just like that.

‘It’s sad,’ says Connor over breakfast the following morning. ‘But not entirely unexpected. From what I could see, Lottie was rather controlling. She wanted you all to herself. I could tell that from her body language in the Royal Court bar that night. It was like watching one of those overbearing parents, a helicopter parent. Hovering over you, telling you when it was time to leave. That’s not healthy, Vanessa. Friends should let you be happy.’

‘I know,’ I say, spreading the last of the strawberry jam on to my toast. ‘And there were times when I used to feel I had to go along with what she wanted to do even if I wasn’t enjoying it. Still, to change her number like that. It feels rather extreme.’