The bare trees are silhouetted against a silver-grey sky. Dogs scamper past, their owners carrying long plastic ball throwers and dressed warmly against the December cold. I’m in a dress covered in tiny, Christmassy stars, with my big red coat over the top. I’ve changed my work shoes for trainers, carrying them over my shoulders in a rucksack. I watch a couple walking past, his arm around her waist, and I feel a pang of guilt. Sophie says James has been fine at work, but I still wonder if I should have let him down more gently. But I think about Nanna Beth, and how she told me to remember I only have one life and that I should leave it with as few regrets as possible. It’s funny, but as much as Mum and Nanna Beth seemed to like him, I didn’t love him – I mean I liked him, and he felt safe and secure, and all those things . . . but I definitely didn’t love him. And being together with the wrong person was a million times worse than being single.

I walk past the bike hire rack where Alex and I hired Boris Bikes on one of our first outings together. I feel like he’s been avoiding me, but when I tried to skirt around the question with Becky – trying to make it sound as casual as possible, she just made non-committal noises about him going back to his Mum’s place to study.

‘We’ve got someone coming to have a look at the room,’ she’d reminded me that morning over breakfast. I’d looked up, confused.

‘What about the girl Emma knew?’

‘Mmm,’ Becky had said, looking dubious. ‘Dan’s a friend from work. He’s split up with his boyfriend and he’s staying on a friend’s sofa. I’d be doing him a favour. And after the whole – ’ she’d raised her eyes towards the ceiling and waggled a finger back and forth, motioning in the direction of Alex and Emma’s rooms ‘—Well, the whole situation, I think we want minimal drama, don’t you?’

My eyes widened in surprise, and Emma had met my gaze with a knowing look. I’d had no idea she’d known what was going on.

I stop to sit on a bench. My breath clouds in puffs in the freezing air. A family walk past, the children dragging sticks, the parents doubled over with laughter at their antics. That’s the kind of family I want, I find myself thinking. And then it hits me. It’s almost Christmas, and I’m here, alone, in London. I’ve got nobody. Publishing is full of women and gay men as far as I can see, so the chances of meeting someone at work are non-existent, and there’s nothing on this planet that’s going to convince me to try online dating again.