You can never be sure how these conversations start, but suddenly the three of us realised we’d all been dumped for money, in Mark’s case millionaires, twice.

“He did continuity on film sets. That Harry Potter movie. He was earning three grand a day, a day!”
“I mean we might not look much but our lives have substance”
“Three grand a day!”
“I don’t know, you offer them philosophical meaning and existential depth and they just go for the cash”
“Harry fucking Potter”
“I’m surprised I haven’t seen her more often, Brighton’s a small place”
“Three fucking grand for making sure someone’s tie is the same colour in different shots”
“I’m quite pleased I haven’t run into my ex wife once in the past five years”
“Harry fucking Potter!”