‘Yeah, really well,’ he confirms. Christ, is he my hairdresser now? Is he going to ask if I’ve been away? He, on the other hand, is not looking his ‘best self’ on this fine summer’s morning. His hair is mussed up and outgrown, which is unusual for him, and clearly he hasn’t got it together to shave for a couple of days (also unusual). Dark shadows lurk beneath his eyes, and his lids are heavy. I’d surmise that he’s been up all night, shagging the foxy doctor, but there’s a distinct lack of joie de vivre about him. But then, he’d hardly bound in, announcing that they had a magnificent session last night.

Maybe they’ve had their first tiff? They’ve been together for around ten months, by my reckoning. Long enough for cracks to have appeared in his best behaviour facade. By this point, he might have slipped into a habit of ‘forgetting’ to flush the loo (i.e. it’s too arduous a task). There might even have been a flurry of careless farting. I’m still not sure whether she’s living with him, or what their situation is, and I don’t ask. The truth is, I still can’t bear the thought of them together, and the less I know about their situation, the better it is for me. On a happier note, I have managed to not look at any of those Estelle Lang pictures for ages now, which I’m proud of. Maybe I should mention it to Jules as an ‘achievement’, when she arrives for my next life coaching session in an hour’s time?

‘Izzy, are you ready?’ I call out. ‘Dad’s waiting for you, love.’

‘Coming,’ she replies, and I can hear her clattering about overhead. They’re only going to the cinema and for a curry. But a day out with her dad has to involve the packing of numerous items in her backpack, plus the careful selection of accessories, specifically hair-related, and she continues to refuse my offers of help.

Andy has finished his coffee, and our talk has turned to Spencer and his travels. Our son has spent much of the summer working at festivals, seemingly having a ball. Spain, France, Bulgaria: what it is to be young, and to be paid to do something you love. I should take a leaf out of his book. At least I have made a firm decision to turn down the Menopause Ambassador role, as soon as Rose is back from China. The idea of at best being seen to be patronising my colleagues, and at worst, attracting derision and hostility? No thank you.