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The cushions were still perfectly arranged. The kitchen was spotless. The place smelled faintly of coffee and his aftershave, so he’s not starving himself or stinky.

Nothing looked broken, unkempt, neglected – even Ron looked great on TV. If Eddy left a mark on his face, you can’t see any sign of it now, so either it wasn’t that bad, or his bruises are covered with make-up. Either way, everything seems fine. Like I was never there.

So I took my things and left. Ron must know I’ve been, collected my things, and left his key in his letter box for him. But he didn’t contact me before I dropped by, and he hasn’t since. He must know there’s no coming back from this, so why bother? But it would have been something to get an apology, a shitty bunch of flowers, or a text – anything to show a bit of remorse or regret. At first, I checked my phone constantly, waiting for his pathetic excuses to come through – it only made me feel even angrier that they never came.

Truly, there is something uniquely offensive about being cheated on by a man who then cannot even be bothered to perform any post-cheating admin.

I think he knows me well enough to know there is no way I would forgive him – or maybe that’s giving him too much credit. Maybe he simply doesn’t care. That seems more likely.

At Freddiez, he was more concerned about Trish being exposed than he was about me. Then he was more interested in getting one over on Eddy. Then, after Eddy hit him, all he cared about was his stupid face.

Anyway, there’s no point obsessing over it. I have my things, I have my new home, and I have my job. Today it has me at the stadium, where we’re welcoming a new signing all the way from Australia.

It’s a whole thing, when a player comes from abroad, because someone from the club has to essentially set up a life for them – a home, a phone, a bank account and stuff like that.

The club has hosted a press event today, where the media could come and meet him, ask him questions, and we can all start getting hyped for the next season. I’m realising that, as one season is wrapping up, that’s when news of signings starts dropping.

I’m waiting my turn, for the press to be finished, so that I can ask him a few questions for the Lions’ socials.

His name is Cal Wade, he is twenty-four, Australian, and joining the Lions next season on a two-year deal. He’s wearing a navy-blue club-branded polo shirt, and looking relaxed and tanned, despite joining us on the verge of autumn.

There are local reporters, photographers, club staff – in fact, CrashSports has sent someone, and it’s Trish, so I’m keeping well out of her way. The last thing I need is another altercation – although I’m sure she’ll keep her head down around me, lest her little secret come out. It’s a strange thing to know about a person, a weird burden to carry. I don’t like knowing that she’s cheating on her husband, that she has a baby – because as much as I want them to know the truth, I don’t want to be the person who ruins someone’s life. You never know what arrangements people have, what goes on behind closed doors, so all I want to do is focus on myself, my own conduct, my own well-being. It isn’t my job to worry about her actions, now that I refuse to let them affect me. Plus I’m hoping this will have given her a scare, made her rethink what she’s doing, turn it all around… I can hope.

After the press clear out, it’s my turn to talk to Cal.

I have spent most of the week trying to drag the club’s online presence into the current decade. Things like filming shorter clips, the kind you can drop often, to keep people interested.

‘Ready?’ I ask.

Cal nods.

‘As I’ll ever be,’ he replies.

I press record. My plan is to film our conversation, then chop it into fun, bite-size chunks later.

‘So, Cal, welcome to Leeds.’

‘Thanks. Good to be here,’ he replies.

‘How are you finding England so far?’

‘Cold.’

I laugh. I should have known he’d say that.

‘No one warned me,’ he continues.

‘No one has mentioned the weather?’ I reply. ‘We’re English, it’s all we talk about – I would have thought there was a section on the visa application.’

He laughs. Now that he’s relaxed and I have him onside, I move through the questions.

Why Leeds?

What kind of player is he?

What is he most looking forward to?

Which English food has he tried? He loves Greggs already, it turns out. A very patriotic choice.