He had the good manners to call before showing up, but only with fifteen minutes’ notice. He seems a little lost, and is looking thin around the cheeks. There’s a definite lack of sparkle in his eyes these days, and I’m starting to understand that life didn’t turn out quite how he thought it would, when he left me. But that’s not my concern. I’m still not even sure what he wants from me; surely he’s not nurturing some hope that we might get back together? Whatever’s on his mind, he seems disappointed when I tell him my car is being taken to the garage first thing tomorrow, and that his assistance won’t be required.

‘Are you sure I can’t have a quick look?’ he asks.

‘The garage guy knows this car,’ I say, trying to remain patient, ‘and he reckons it’s something serious with the water-cooling system. I don’t think you poking about under the bonnet would have much effect.’

Now that’s been confirmed, I wait for him to leave. But he hangs out with Izzy for a while, quizzing her about school and even – irritatingly – watching a cartoon with her, despite having never shown any interest in doing so before.

It is, I realise with a gnawing sense of unease, as if he doesn’t want to go home. I could ask him to go, but don’t really want to in front of Izzy; by God, I’ve done my utmost to make it seem as if everything is friendly and cordial between us, and I’m not going to crack now. Perhaps that’s something I should focus on, during my next life coaching session: my previously undiscovered ability to pretend?

‘Izzy was saying the fashion show’s going ahead,’ he says casually, having wandered through to bother me in the kitchen.

‘Um, yes, it is.’ I continue with putting away cutlery. ‘Penny doesn’t know about it, by the way, in case you happen to run into her. Not that that’s likely, I know.’

‘Really? She has no idea?’

I toss in the last fork and turn to look at him.

‘No.’

He frowns. ‘Are you sure that’s wise?’

Sometimes, I swear he can’t possibly realise how irritating he is. I must have become desensitised to it – immune, really – during all our years together, otherwise I’m sure I would have lynched him.

‘Nick and I think it’s best.’

Andy looks at me, steadily, as if trying to bring me into sharper focus. ‘Nick and I?’

‘Yes,’ I say firmly, determined not to rise to the bait. ‘I didn’t want to tell her at first, in case she dismissed it before we’d even had a chance to get things started. And now it’s definitely going ahead, and has gained momentum, but it’s never seemed like quite the right time. So Nick and I think …’