“You’re great too.” I got my bag out and gave her the bottle of wine I was supposed to be sharing with Ben. “Right, open this. Get glasses. I’ll be back.”

Bridget, remarkably, went to bed with no resistance. She laughed at the voices I put on, then, sleepy, she asked me to turn on her night-light. I stood in the doorway and watched her fall asleep instantly.

Jessica was staring into space when I crept back to her living room, marveling at how nice she’d made the place already. It was my dream flat. Victorian, two-bed with a garden, on a quiet road literally on the park. An impossible place to own, or even rent, unless you fell into a pot of gold, or divorced a very rich man. But, as she wiped away tears at the sight of me, I felt maybe it wasn’t worth it.

“Did she go down OK?”

“She is an angel child. Do you put drugs in her squash?”

“I can’t believe she’s seen me like this. That you have... I hate people seeing me like this.” Jessica broke down again, hiding her face, while I crouched down, and told her it was fine. My toes tingled by the time her sobs subsided, her face a blotchy blur. Every defense down.

“Sorry,” she said for the millionth time.

“Don’t apologize,” I replied for the millionth time. “Are you ready to talk about it?”

“I’m being stupid.” She pushed herself upright in her squashy sofa and leaned over to pluck the wineglass from her stained-glass coffee table. I took the cue to take my own, and sat cross-legged next to her.

“What is it?”

“It’s just, Brendan rang, and, well, Isobel is pregnant.” Her voice cracked again. “They’re getting married too, of course.”

“Ahh.”

“He asked if Bridget could be a flower girl.”

“What a dick.”

“And even said, ‘You’re welcome to come if you want.’”

“Double dick no returns.”

“I just...can’t believe she’s pregnant. I thought... I knew it was over with us. But she...she’s only twenty fucking six. She was his rebound plaything. A girl to fuck, remember? But no. She’s a complete replacement.”

I reached over and took her hand. “Honey, you’re irreplaceable.”

She laughed harshly. “Not to men, I’m not. No woman is.” She shook her head. “It’s just...poor Bridget. She’s going to be the awkward sidelined child from a first marriage. I hate that. I hate that he’s going to make her that.”

“Jessica, it would be impossible to sideline Bridget. She’s like a siren trapped in a child. It’s fucking weird, but it’s true.”