Her hazel eyes meet mine expectantly and I feel a ridiculous tweak of anxiety. I’m suddenly not sure I want her to know the truth about my finances. Not the exact truth.

“I… er… absolutely!” I say. “Of course I do. It’s all a question of… of planning ahead and careful management.”

“Exactly!” says Jess with approval. “When any money comes in, the first thing I do is put half aside to save.”

Half? Even my dad doesn’t save that much.

“Excellent!” I manage. “It’s the only sensible option.”

I’m in total shock. When I was a financial journalist, I used to write articles telling people to save a percentage of their money all the time. But I never thought anyone would actually save half.

Jess is looking at me with a fresh interest and maybe even affection.

“So… you do the same, do you, Becky?”

For a few seconds I can’t quite formulate a response.

“Er… well!” I say at last, and clear my throat. “Maybe not exactly half every month…”

“I’m just the same.” Her face relaxes into a smile. “Sometimes I only manage twenty percent.”

“Twenty percent!” I echo feebly. “Well… never mind. You shouldn’t feel bad.”

“But I do,” says Jess, leaning forward across the table. “You must understand that.”

I’ve never seen her face look so open.

Oh my God. We’re bonding.

“Twenty percent of what?” comes Luke’s voice as he and Gary enter the kitchen, both looking in good spirits.

Maybe now is the time to move the conversation on.

“Er… nothing!” I say.

“We’re just talking about finances,” says Jess to Luke. “We’ve both been doing our accounts.”

“Your accounts?” says Luke, giving a small shout of laughter. “What accounts would those be, Becky?”

“You know!” I say brightly. “My financial affairs and so forth.”

“Ah.” Luke nods, pulling a bottle of wine from the fridge. “So… have you called out the SWAT teams yet? And the Red Cross?”

“What do you mean?” says Jess, puzzled.

“They’re traditionally summoned to disaster areas, aren’t they?” He grins at me.

“So!” I say quickly, trying to change the subject. “Did anyone… er… see EastEnders last night?”

No one seems to hear me.

“But Becky was a financial journalist!” says Jess, sounding disconcerted.

“That’s… that’s not exactly what I said,” I say, flustered. “I said it’s a good idea to save half your salary. In principle. And… it is! It’s a very good idea!”

“How about not running up huge credit card bills which you keep secret from your husband?” says Luke. “Is that a good idea in principle?”

“Credit card bills?” says Jess, looking at me in horror. “So… you’re in debt?”

God, why does she have to say it like that? Debt. Like it’s some kind of plague. Like I’m about to go to the workhouse. This is the twenty-first century. Everyone’s in debt.

“You know how doctors make the worst patients?” I say with a little laugh. “Well, financial journalists make the worst… er…”