‘Have you sacked the cleaner yet?’ one of Hot Danish’s colleagues asked when he told him that the girlfriend was moving in (I’m pretty sure the same guy asked if I had a webcam when HD said what I did for a living). The response from my friends has been mixed, from ‘Congratulations’ (Monique, Louise, Natasha among them) and ‘Go and have lots of children and live happily, but do me a favour: whatever happens grow old disgracefully with dignity’ (The Gentleman) to the cheeky, ‘You defector [because I’m moving from Notting Hill to South Ken]…’

I am sad to be leaving my hood after eight years and my little studio after two years. I’m struggling to part with my sofa-bed, in particular. ‘It holds fond memories,’ I told HD.
‘I don’t want to know,’ he replied. The truth is, it reminds me of all the times my girlfs have stayed over (and one 21-year-old boy who missed his train and ended up singing arias to me from it).

Others have reacted to my news with, ‘Who asked who?’ and ‘Are you keeping your flat?’ Of course, what they really mean is, ‘Aren’t you being a bit rash?’ or ‘Are you sure you didn’t ask him, because no sane man asks a girl to move in with him after a few months?’ Plan B’s words stung, ‘Moving in with HD is a good commercial move for you, however you dress it up as romantic and impulsive.’
‘Well I was just going to say he’s hot and I’m loving waking up with him every morning but that’s cheesy, right?’ I replied, trying not to rise to the bait.
‘It may be cheesy, but it is beautiful too. Unless he is continuing to be a vomit-man, of course [referring to the morning after our recent joint dinner party that got out of control]’.

HD suggested we throw a party to celebrate me moving in. Luckily he hasn’t sacked the cleaner (I no longer have to google ‘how to boil potatoes’ but I’m still a long way off becoming a domestic goddess). However, I’ve noticed that she forgot to change the sheets or clean the floor last week…