‘Is us talking about the Bechdel test enough for us to pass the Bechdel test?’ Vanya asks, pulling on her seatbelt strap and leaning forward between our seats.

‘I don’t know,’ Dee says, looking genuinely perplexed.

‘Well, I have some non-man-themed news,’ Vanya says, pausing until she has our full attention. ‘I got my mortgage approved.’ She bites her lip and then squeals with excitement, clapping her hands together.

‘Vanya, that’s wonderful,’ says Dee.

‘Wow,’ I say, clapping my hands, but feeling my stomach churn. That means she’s moving out. ‘I’m so happy for you.’

‘Thank you, and don’t worry, Laura, I won’t be going anywhere until after Christmas. You’ll have loads of time to find the new me.’

Three months. Dee will be married in Surrey and Vanya will own a flat in Hackney. Everyone is moving on, except me.

‘Oh, and I have a present for your trip,’ Vanya says, handing me a paperback with an orange and black striped cover. Tiger Woman by Bee Bee Graceful is written in bold gold lettering across the front. ‘We’re reading it for my book club. It’s going to change your life.’

She is constantly recommending me books that are going to ‘change my life’.

‘Honestly, Laura, it will help you re-harness your inner tigress, take control of your destiny.’

Dee shakes her head, but doesn’t comment.

When we finally pull into Departures at Gatwick, I feel a bit sick after Dee’s swervy driving and all the Haribos I’ve eaten. Vanya and Dee both get out of the car to hug me goodbye.

‘Don’t forget to feed the fish,’ I tell Vanya, as I pull my black carry-on from the boot. We don’t have fish, it’s just something we say to each other. ‘And thank you for driving me, Dee, I really appreciate it.’

Dee takes hold of my hand and looks me straight in the eye before saying, ‘I love you. Call me whenever you need to. I know this trip might be emotional for you.’

I give her a grateful smile, then turn to walk towards the airport doors.

‘And Laura! Laura!’ Vanya calls my name until I turn around. When she has my attention, she presses a hand across her heart and yells, ‘Keep the faith. He’s out there – you just haven’t met him yet.’

Looking up at the departures board, I scan the place names and find the my flight to Jersey. The word alone has so many connotations for me. I can’t hear it without thinking of my parents’ story, the prologue to my existence. Is it strange to feel nostalgia for a place I’ve never been? Mum used to say we’d go together one day, but then she got nervous of flying, and there was never a good time.