‘Yippee. You can fill me in on Roger and what else has been going on.’

My decision to go to the cinema led to a turn of events that would torture me for the next ten years. My nightmares might not have been so bad if I’d gone home as planned.

We drank coffee before we set off. Jodi knew not to pry, happy that her elusive best friend was at last around for some fun. There was no one special in her life. She made up stories relating to men she met at work, in the pub or at the squash club. We both knew these were fantasies. She was lonely and confused but I guessed she preferred women. I often sensed a dilemma in my company but I knew, deep down, she’d never make a move in my direction. She didn’t like Mitch though. She didn’t trust him.

The cinema was packed. We laughed and cried at the ludicrous caricature of Forrest Gump. Jodi spent freely as she refilled our popcorn cartons and later treated me to pizza. It was around 6pm when we finally said goodbye, kissed cheek to cheek and promised to ring each other on Christmas morning and compare family sagas.

‘Don’t forget, I’m always around if you need someone to talk to.’

‘Thanks. I’ve had a great time. It’s done me good.’ I waved my friend off and headed home. Snow was falling steadily by the time I reached the bedsit, and I decided to spend my last evening having a hot bath, reading a few chapters of my novel, and getting an early night. I dug out a few candles to brighten up the lounge and bathroom. The subdued scented aroma soon filled the flat.

I lay back and slid under the hot water, swirled the bubbles round the bath, and let my body slowly unwind. I felt the tension melt away and as I opened my book, I sipped from a long-stemmed wine glass and felt a sense of contentment.

I must have fallen asleep for a few minutes because I was only aware of the phone message being left. I hadn’t heard the ringing tone. I listened. It was Mitch’s voice. I was able to make out a muffled message wishing me a merry Christmas. I would normally have been thrilled that he’d called, especially at a time when I wasn’t expecting it, but my body tensed. I’d told him I wouldn’t be here, that I was going home.

I stepped out of the bath into what felt like a fridge and threw a huge towel over my shoulders, frantically rubbing away the water and suds. My teeth chattered as I carried my wine into the lounge. I snuffed out the candles which fluttered against a draught blowing up from under the door.