I was having one of those over-emotional mornings: it was a Sunday and I was tired and hungover. I had been checking out the bands at Shepherd’s Bush Oxjam the previous evening and when the first band eventually started, one of the mics wasn’t working, the sound quality was terrible and the singer had lost her voice. I ended up snogging TV Presenter on a sofa at Raving Buddha. Afterwards, he texted, ‘Inevitable x’.

A male friend is usually good at helping you to put things in perspective at times like this. I told Plan B that I was feeling down. ‘Hey, nobody died. It could have been worse; you could have woken up with him. Or you could have accidentally slept with a client you don’t fancy, like I did a week ago,’ he replied.

Joe had booked tickets for A Round-Heeled Woman starring Sharon Gless at Riverside Studios while he’d been in China for business. Afterwards we headed to E&O for drinks and dim sum. He was fun, attentive and interesting but I realised I wasn’t going to fancy him. The first time I tried calling him the following evening his phone was switched off. He answered on my second attempt, ‘Hello gorgeous. I was just talking about you to the massage therapist.’ I suggested he called after his massage. The whole evening was a series of missed calls and wrong moments (a car had just crashed into the wall of one of his properties when we finally spoke). Worse, he sent sweet texts throughout.

Natasha thought it was amusing and said that perhaps it was a sign to give him another date. I called Plan B. ‘At least you’re not being dumped for once,’ he said, most unhelpfully. ‘Your girlfriends are for asking advice, not me,’ he added before asking for some advice on a completely different matter. Fortunately we lost reception. ‘Dump him,’ he texted.

Joe had a splitting headache when we spoke the following lunchtime. There was never going to be a good time: I quickly said I couldn’t see us being more than friends. He was a gentleman, ‘I’m disappointed but I appreciate your honesty.’