I brace myself as I flick the light switch. And, lo, there isn’t a hideous exploding sound, there is light where light should be. A little bit of my gloom lifts—at least one of my problems has been solved. Instant electricity is another one of those things we take for granted—like boyfriends. It would be nice if I could flick another switch and miraculously make Jake come home and love me again. But there isn’t such a switch and he isn’t at home.

The house seems so empty without him—especially after coming straight back from Edie’s chaotic abode. I dump my overnight bag and try his mobile phone again, but Jake seems determined not to answer my calls and it goes straight to voicemail. I don’t even bother leaving a message this time. So what do I do? I could sit here feeling sorry for myself, watching crap Sunday-night TV—that always features some weepy drama about a pregnant woman—and wondering what Jake is really thinking. Or I can go and find him and try to sort it out. If I’m going to beg, I’d rather do it face-to-face.

So I spruce myself up—applying another layer of foundation to hide my unnatural pallor and putting on some less crumpled clothes. I don’t want to dress up, because the word ‘desperate’ has entered too many of my conversations in the last two days, but I don’t want to look as if I’ve fallen off the back of a lorry either. Deciding on jeans, teamed with a silk sweater, I jump back in my dented car and head off towards North London and Pip’s house. I’ve got far too much time to think on the journey, but I can’t put the radio on because every damn station is playing something about love gone wrong and all the CDs in the glove compartment are abandoned-women-type songs. I’m finding this difficult enough—I don’t want to get there looking and sounding like a tearful wreck. I concentrate on the clack-clacking of the windscreen wipers and try not to go into a trance.

It’s ages since I’ve been to Pip’s house. We all used to go out together quite frequently about a year ago, but we seemed to have drifted apart as friends as Jake and I haven’t seen him socially for months now. I think this is mainly down to Pip’s inability to keep a girlfriend for longer than it takes a pot of yoghurt to go off. I got to the point where I stopped trying to remember their names. I have a feeling Pip did too.