Show them that you are in control of the situation. Don’t give them an opportunity to disagree with you.’ She’d tried to let it go over her head. Her boyfriend might be the darling of his accountancy firm, but he knew nothing about sales. The advice obviously came from a place of love, but when he used his ‘I know best’ tone she wanted to shove his advice right back up that place of love. Quite forcefully.

How he could do his job day in, day out was a complete mystery to her. They’d left university with the same accountancy qualification, but Laura had sworn she’d rather read the entire works of Shakespeare backwards on a continual loop than scrutinise someone else’s bank statements and receipts for the rest of her life. It wasn’t the numbers – that part she liked – it was the sheer repetitiveness. James, on the other hand, had followed his life plan to apply to the Big Six accountancy firms and had slid straight into a fast-track graduate scheme. Since then, he’d climbed up and up, while Laura had fallen rather more haphazardly into the world of IT sales with Sentek, a US company with a small UK office, reporting in to the European head office in Paris. And the force that was Robert Fournier: European Sales Director. She shuddered.

And now she and James were living together. Sort of. Laura was living in James’ flat in Peckham. Tina had used to point this out in the days when she’d still been single – at least you’re living with someone – but then Laura would argue that there is a world of difference between sharing some space in a rented house where you weren’t even allowed to change the layout of the kitchen cupboards, and actually buying a place together. Her living situation was so temporary. Only one step up from her student house because they didn’t have roommates in the second bedroom or a sink full of three days’ washing up.

It had all come to a bit of a head again last night. It didn’t help that Laura had made the fatal mistake of flicking through Instagram while preparing dinner. Tina had posted pictures from her honeymoon in the Maldives along with some candid shots from the wedding reception. Nothing wrong in that. Deep down, Laura was made up for her lovely friend; Tina’s new husband, Phil, was a great bloke and Tina deserved to be happy. It was the comments on the photos that had bothered her: KTB87: One of us now! CopperTop: Welcome to the Mrs Club! SadieSmith: Babies next!

Laura had taken the meat tenderiser to the two pieces of fillet steak like a psychopath who’d had a really bad day.

James had come home in a buoyant mood, carrying a bottle of champagne from a grateful client. He’d poured them a glass each, then put the rest of the bottle in the fridge with a spoon in it to keep the bubbles; he wouldn’t have more than one on a work night. Over dinner, he’d mentioned that his colleague, Peter, was getting married.

‘That’s nice. How long has he been with his girlfriend?’ Laura had focused her attention on cutting a slice of steak and keeping her voice neutral. They’d probably been together for years. Childhood sweethearts, etc., etc.

James had shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. He definitely wasn’t with her when he started with the company, which was about… er… three years ago, I guess.’

Which meant that this Peter had been with his girlfriend – fiancée – for a quarter of the time that Laura and James had been together. She’d stuck her fork into a fat chip rather forcefully. ‘And how old is Peter again?’

James clearly had no idea what he was walking into.