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‘Not since she started her family,’ I reply.

We happen upon a room with a sign on the door – Tina’s Office – so we step inside. It’s perfect, because of course it is. Too perfect in fact. The notebooks are still in their plastic, the pens look unused, the books on the shelves look like they’ve never been read. What does she have an office for? Probably just to have something to fill this particular room with, so that it isn’t empty – I remember when I used to do that on The Sims. That’s the same thing, isn’t it?

The rest of the place is as perfect as you’d expect. Her kitchen has three ovens. There are a million toilets. Every bedroom is bigger than any bedroom I’ve ever slept in, never mind owned. If it were anyone else I might be happy for her, but it’s Tina, and she’s gone too far this time.

‘Are you okay?’ Eddy asks as we head down to check out the wine cellar.

‘I’m fine,’ I reply, not really sounding it.

‘I only ask because you’ve roasted every room we’ve been in,’ he points out with a smile. ‘And not all of them deserved it. Most, fair enough, but not all…’

I laugh.

‘Sorry, it’s just, you didn’t hear what she said,’ I reply.

‘I heard her dig about you drinking too much.’

‘Which is mad, because we haven’t been out for drinks since we were much younger,’ I point out. ‘We only ever go for coffee. But it was the stuff before that, she was essentially saying: enjoy your small victory with your fancy boyfriend because you have nothing, and you’ll probably never have anything, and my life is perfect, blah blah blah.’

He smiles.

‘What?’ I reply.

‘Just the idea of me being a fancy boyfriend,’ he replies. ‘But, seriously, it sounds to me like she’s jealous. I get it from people sometimes, not my family who mean well, but some of my mates who are settled down. They get on at me but, the way I see it, they have the problem. I think it’s easy for people to look at us and envy the potential; we can do anything, but they’ve already chosen. So they reframe it as concern, over what we don’t have, rather than admit it’s a little bit of envy over what we could have.’

‘You’re very smart for a man who gets kicked in the head every week,’ I muse, pretending to be annoyed that he’s right, but he is: he’s right.

‘I had a teacher who always used to say I needed some sense knocking into me,’ he replies.

I can’t believe they have a wine cellar. It’s softly lit, with bottles stored in wooden racks covering two walls. There is a long tasting table in the middle, surrounded by stools, and a huge glass-fronted cabinet filled with more wine at the far end.

‘Well, I don’t want to let her down,’ I say, opening a box that’s on the table. Inside there’s a bottle of champagne wrapped in orange paper. ‘Cheers.’

I pop the cork, sending it flying, and take a swig. It’s cold, fizzy and sharp. Sort of like how I’m feeling right now.

‘Shit,’ Eddy says softly.

‘What?’ I reply.

I turn to face him and see a small gift card in his hand.

‘I just picked this up from the floor,’ he says. ‘It’s a gift card, from Tony to Tina, for the champagne. It’s a house-warming present. For them to drink when they’ve lived in the house for five years…’

‘Shit, okay, well, grab a different bottle, we’ll wrap it back up,’ I suggest.

Eddy winces as he looks at the box it came in.

‘This says it’s a Louis Roederer Cristal 2002,’ he says.

I check the bottle. It says the same. Oh God.

‘Do you think it was expensive?’ I ask.

He winces.

‘Either way, I think they only have one bottle,’ he points out. ‘And you’re drinking from it.’

‘Oh, Tina will kill me,’ I say.