There was a silence and then Emma laughed, and I realised that no, hang on, she was clearly talking about someone else. She must’ve met someone. I puffed out a breath, which was half a sigh of relief and half – well, nobody wants to feel like they’ve just been given the silent heave-ho without even being consulted, do they? Emma said something else I couldn’t catch, and then laughed again.

‘Yes, he’s cute. Used to be a lawyer. He’s training to be a nurse.’

I looked down at the skin on my knuckles, which was turning white as I gripped the stair wall. Who was Emma talking to? And – God. I felt my face invert in a grimace. The deal we’d both agreed was that it was nothing more than a friends with benefits sort of thing. Nobody getting too involved, nobody getting hurt.

I’d crept back downstairs, keen to make sure she didn’t realise I’d overheard.

In the end, half an hour later, Emma had popped her head around the kitchen door and said she was off out for last-minute drinks with a friend, and that maybe she’d see me later, if I was still up.

We’d slept together for the first time on New Year’s Eve, and now it’s April. I suppose it was naïve of me to think something could stay so casual for that long. It’s not Emma. She’s lovely. But after Alice – no way. Signing up for my new career meant walking away from a relationship I thought was for life, and I’m not taking that sort of risk again, not now, with years of training to do. I’m just starting to feel that, actually, I’m okay on my own, and I’m getting over the whole Alice thing.

I let myself think about Alice, which is something I don’t often do. I’m over her – but I don’t want to leap into anything else and end up in the same place all over again. If Emma is starting to think there’s something more to this, I’m going to have to knock it on the head, gently. But – I rub my face in confusion – how the hell do I do that without causing ructions in the house-share?

This is exactly what Becky had meant with her no-relationships rule. It wasn’t the being in a relationship that was the problem, it’s the end of them when it all gets messy. And Emma’s the sort of girl who likes things done her way.

Just as the credits begin to roll on my overdramatic hospital drama, I hear a commotion at the door. I figure it’s probably someone at the wrong house. I get to the door and pull it open and there’s a moment when Jess sort of falls through and crashes against me with a little ‘oomph’ noise of surprise. Her hair is damp and curling round her face in little strands, and all the dark eye make-up she’d had on is smudged. She takes a step back. Her coat’s splattered with huge raindrops.