‘Yes,’ says Connor, watching me as I bite into my toast. ‘But that’s her choice and she’s made it. It happens a lot with friendships though. I don’t want to sound harsh but some of them just run their course. I had a big group of friends at Bristol who I saw all the time during my three years at uni. We were inseparable. When we graduated we all went our separate ways but a few of us ended up in London. For the first year or so I would meet up with a couple of the guys, for old times’ sake, but something had changed. We’d outgrown each other. It got to the point where we were all making excuses not to meet up. It’s brutal but it’s just the way life works out. Certain friendships only make sense at a particular time in your life and you have to let go. You and Lottie are a case in point.’

‘You’re right,’ I say, getting up from the table and brushing off the toast crumbs from my dressing gown. ‘And I have to remember that it’s not a crime to move in with your boyfriend when you’re thirty-two years old. Anyway, we’ve talked about this over and over. Let’s move on: would you like a coffee?’

I turn round and see Connor plugging in the vacuum cleaner.

‘Just getting rid of those toast crumbs before they build up,’ he says, smiling. ‘Coffee would be great, thanks.’

I go into the kitchen and open the cupboard. Connor’s been working from home the last few days and it appears he’s also been hard at work in here. All of the items in the cupboard have been lined up neatly. The half-empty packets of rice, bran flakes, pasta and biscuits have been decanted into plastic tubs and labelled. When I open the fridge to get the milk I see that he has done the same in there.

‘Someone’s been busy,’ I say, handing him a cup of coffee.

‘Ah, yes,’ he says, looking rather sheepish. ‘It’s embarrassing really but I’m just a bit of a neat freak as you’ll have probably gathered. And I love you to bits but you can be a little … messy.’

He looks like he’s treading on eggshells as he says this, like he’s terrified of offending me.

‘Oh God, I’m sorry,’ I say, sitting down on the arm of the sofa. ‘I guess I’ve just got stuck in a rut. Lottie was pretty messy round the house and we’d just let things slide then do a big blitz on the cleaning every couple of weeks. I know that’s not the best approach.’