Last week saw a big change of scene. After more than two months living with my best mate Flo I moved to another flat in the south of the city where I will ride out the heat of the summer. Leaving her after such a long time in each other’s company felt very strange. We spent 78 days together, slotting into each other’s routines like the only two cogs in an efficient quarantine machine. We ran a seamless lockdown operation from her swanky attic flat, going about our respective daytime work obligations but still making time to cook delicious meals every night, watch films and play plenty of cards. In every free moment we put on our favourite tunes, sang and danced around the flat, revelling in the carefreeness of our fifth-floor bubble. Naturally, we had a handful of bickers but learned to be patient and laugh through them. We stayed positive but were grateful to have each other for the bluer moments. I’m very glad to have spent the quarantine with Flo and to have built such a special friendship throughout these extraordinary circumstances. It is one that I will no doubt cherish for the rest of my life.