‘I bet. He’s a good guy.’ Naomi takes my cup from my hand, still full. ‘Let me get us a fresh one and then we can change the subject, OK? Talk about something else.’

I nod and sit back to wait for her to return. Maybe I am reading too much into Naomi seeing Rav behind my back. After all, they get on well, I made sure of that. When I came back from India with him on my arm, my mum was so dismissive, so adamant that he wasn’t the right one for me, that Naomi’s opinion became even more important. I hadn’t known her long before I went travelling but she was the first friend I made at college on the floristry course I took after school. Her opinion of Rav was important to me, important to the survival of our friendship, so when she had turned to me in the pub while Rav was in the loo and squeezed my hand, I knew she approved.

‘Allie, he’s perfect!’ she had breathed excitedly, ‘and you met him on the beach. That’s so romantic.’ She had faked a swoon, making me laugh so that I almost choked on my vodka and tonic. ‘I wish Jason and I had a more romantic meeting than crashing trolleys in Costco.’

I had laughed even harder, loving the way we all clicked as a foursome. We’d go to dinner together, to the theatre, Naomi and I would talk books, both of us swapping recommendations on new releases and old favourites, and Rav and Jason would talk films and music, neither of them being big readers. We were good friends, all four of us, and when Jason left Naomi, it was us she called on to come and help her move her stuff, me and Rav who helped her redecorate the tiny flat she found on the outskirts of Pluckley. I don’t know why I thought a text from her in Rav’s phone would be anything more sinister than her perhaps checking up on him – on us – to make sure we didn’t need anything. Hormones. All of this can probably be put down to hormones. But then I think of her fingers linking with his, the way Rav lied to me about where he was and then, once again, I’m not so sure.

‘Cheers.’ I gratefully take the steaming mug of fresh tea from Naomi, determined this time to at least get more than a mouthful before the baby starts to grizzle in the cot. ‘Sorry for dragging you away from the shop. I didn’t mean to be so weird, I was a bit shaken up.’

‘You’ve always been weird.’ Naomi grins. ‘I just want to know that you’re OK, that’s all.’