‘I’m already on it,’ Vicky laughs, heading into the kitchen where she gets a glass out for Zaza. ‘You can be in charge of the music instead. Nothing soppy. Let’s go for some classic anthems. Do you need another, Mike?’

‘Yes, please!’ I say, just as the doorbell rings again. ‘Nick back?’

‘Not likely. He’s been busier than ever since coming back from LA,’ tuts Vicky.

‘Oh. Just us then?’ I realize.

‘Lucky us,’ she winks. ‘I ordered us some food.’

‘I’ll go!’ I say, walking out of the room and wondering if it being the three of us was the plan all along or really has happened by chance. I’m not fussed either way but hope Liam and Nick aren’t pissed off at me for pinching their other halves. They’ve each sent the odd text now and again to check in. More so than some of my other mates, actually, but I imagine they can’t step away from the situation like the others can when they’re living with women so linked to my grief.

When I get to the front door it is indeed a delivery guy instead of Nick, and the waft of curry coming from the brown paper bags as he passes them over makes my mouth water. Carrying them through the house my stomach gives an almighty growl at the idea of being fed imminently – something that’s not been happening much recently.

‘I hope you guys have got the plates ready, because otherwise I’m going to gnaw through the bags!’ I say, carrying them through.

‘Sit!’ Vicky orders, gesturing to the table she’s magically laid in the twenty seconds I was gone.

We don’t bother with any small talk, instead we focus on getting the food out, plated up and in our gobs. The sound of Virgin Radio fills the room. Only when we’re groaning from excess do we chat.

‘God, I remember in the early days of meeting Nick – I’d literally eat like a sparrow.’

‘Why?’ I ask.

‘I thought it would impress him, or that it made me look good in some way. Nice girls don’t stuff their faces …’

‘And look at you now,’ laughs Zaza.

‘This is what comfy looks like … and it might just be the most I’ve ever eaten on Valentine’s since we first got together. I really hope Nick isn’t after some later, because I feel like a happy bloated seal right now, not a …’ She stops, allowing laughter to spill out. ‘God, what’s sexier than a seal?’

‘Lost your metaphor?’ I guffaw. ‘Gosh, a sexy animal. Hmmm … I’m not really into that but at a stretch maybe a penguin?’ I jest.

‘I guess it really depends what Nick’s into,’ chimes in Zaza, attempting to keep a straight face but losing herself in giggles too.