She smiled affectionately and enquiringly, and I felt my anger begin to cool and harden. Even when directly confronted with her lies about Cameron – something which would have reduced anyone with any kind of conscience to a quivering, apologetic wreck – she still felt in control. She believed that she had me, and our relationship, in the palm of her hand.

When Jason had told me how much she had valued my friendship, I had pitied her. I had wondered whether she, like him, would acknowledge and take responsibility for her mistakes, enabling us to perhaps salvage some sort of new relationship from the wreckage of the old.

But Ruby, it seemed, wasn’t in the same place as Jason when it came to a desire for redemption. She simply didn’t share his need for it. For now at least, Ruby just wanted what Ruby wanted, and she was clearly prepared to trample anything – including the truth – which threatened to get in the way of that.

And so, with little expectation of or desire for a future friendship, and now simply in search of an end, I decided to send some more truths Ruby’s way.

‘Things feel a lot more settled. Giles is great to live with and Jason and I are building bridges.’

At the mention of Jason, her expression of friendly interest remained unchanged, but her knuckles whitened as she tightened her grip on her glass. I wondered how much pressure would be required to shatter it.

She shook her head despairingly. ‘Y’know, you’re way too nice, Edie.’

‘Am I?’

‘Well,’ she placed her drink on the table, ‘after everything Jason did to you, how can you possibly have anything at all to do with him? I admire your ability to forgive, but I also find it a bit frustrating at the same time. I can’t help it.’

‘He’s in therapy and seems to be taking it seriously.’

‘Therapy?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘OK, but don’t let him get close enough to hurt you again. We know what he’s like.’

She took a breath and I thought for a moment that she might be about to go further and offer me a justification of her use of “we”. But instead, she simply exhaled and shrugged, apparently ready to let the subject drop.

I hesitated for a moment, weighing up whether to confront her and end our relationship with an angry and very public exit – either hers, or mine – or to move on and save that final confrontation, that explanation of why I never wanted to see her again, for an email when I got home.

‘Tell me about Bath,’ I said. ‘Are you house-hunting?’

‘No,’ she said dismissively, clearly with no interest in the subject. ‘Are you? I really hope Jason’s soul-searching isn’t distracting you from that. How often is he in touch?’