I’m sitting nursing my carton of Starbucks coffee, staring at my wonderful view and trying to work myself up to editing an article on the diary of a pregnant mother—‘It’s a Mum’s Life!’ Every title I write has an exclamation mark at the end of it. If I ever buck the trend and leave it off, Monica always puts one there anyway as if it’s something I’ve forgotten and I’m not staging my own quiet rebellion.

Monica edges her way towards my desk. Her forehead is wrinkled in a very serious-looking frown. It’s too late for me to pretend I’m working, so I take another sip of my coffee instead.

My friend and boss pulls up a chair and slides in next to me. This is also a bad sign as normally she shouts at me from the front of my desk or perches on it, depending whether she has good news or bad news to impart.

‘How’s it going?’ Mon asks.

‘Average,’ I say. ‘Pretty average.’

‘Have you heard from Jake?’

‘Yes.’ I press my lips together tightly, which I’ve always found is a good way of suppressing those nasty emotions when they sneak up unbidden. ‘He came and took all his stuff last night. He’s now a permanent resident with Miss Iron Arse.’

‘Bummer,’ Monica says.

They’re not blaming me quite so much for our relationship breakdown now that they know Jake has been duplicitous. I could milk this, if only I had the energy to.

My smile is tired. ‘Things can only get better.’

Monica fidgets in her chair. ‘That’s what I want to talk to you about.’ My friend looks as if she’d rather not be discussing whatever it is with me at all. ‘I want you to see this as a positive step.’

Which means that I’m guaranteed not to.

‘Go on,’ I say with a certain amount of weary resignation in my tone.

‘We’ve decided that it might be a good idea for you to move across to My Divorce for a while.’

‘Who’s we?’

‘We think it would be a good idea for you to take a break from all this baby guff.’

‘And immerse myself in divorce instead?’ This actually makes me laugh out loud. I’ve often wondered if people go into shops and buy My Divorce brazenly. Or do they sneak it to the counter in the manner of people who normally buy things from the top shelf?

‘We’re thinking of you,’ Monica says. She reaches out and squeezes my arm. ‘You’ve had a rough time recently. A change of scenery might help.’

‘I’m not giving up my great view.’ I’d fight to the death to keep this desk.

‘I meant metaphorical scenery.’