The quiz, as if sensing my need to clear my brain of intrusive thoughts and introspection, chooses that exact moment to begin, and my relief is immense.

I'm not into quizzes as much as the other members of Quizzery Loves Company (great name, eh? That was Abby's doing.) but I've always enjoyed the easy camaraderie that exists within the team. (Even Mitch can occasionally be funny, although that's more often by accident than on purpose.) And I love that rare moment when I manage to pull the answer to a particularly niche question out of my arse and everyone looks at me in admiration as if I'm The Font of All Knowledge. Well, that's how I like to think they look at me, anyway!

The first round today is Geography, which has never really been one of my strong suits. Abby - practically an expert in it - has always gently mocked me for this, occasionally subjecting me to random pop quizzes where she points to a country on a map on her phone and waits to see what ridiculous guess I come up with. I'm not stupid by any means, but for some reason, I just can't make geographical knowledge stick in my brain. We all have our weaknesses, okay?

Anyway, I decide to sit back and let this particular round wash over me. I do suggest Sydney might be the capital of Australia at one point, but that is met with a sweet eye-roll from Abby and a massively exaggerated face-palm from Mitch (See? The nice mask is already slipping!) and that's enough to shut me up until that series of questions is over.

Sports is up next. Abby groans at this announcement, but I find myself straightening keenly in my seat in anticipation of some questions I might actually be able to answer. I like to keep myself relatively up-to-speed with football (always a fun way to flummox men who assume I know nothing about it), and I used to do long-distance running when I was a teenager, which led me to spend a lot of time avidly watching track and field events on the TV. When the Commonwealth Games were held in Glasgow in 2014, I practically bankrupted my parents by insisting they take me to watch as many events as possible. I love sports.

And I'm ready to collect my admiring looks!

Much to my delight, a question actually comes up about my very favourite athlete. "Brody Maxwell won that race," I tell the group confidently.

"Are you sure?" Mitch asks doubtfully. "I've never even heard that name before."

"Oh, that's right, I completely forgot you were an expert in running," I reply, drenching each word in heavy sarcasm. "I'm certain, Mitchell."

Abby laughs. "Louisa had the biggest crush on Brody when we were growing up. If she says it's him, it's definitely him. She probably has every detail of that race written down in her diary!" I glare at her while also appreciating the support.

Because she's not wrong. I have never really done "celebrity crushes" but Brody Maxwell is the exception to that rule. I fell in lust with him when I was eleven, and first discovered my love of running. Five years my senior, he was a teen sensation already running in major events, and anytime one was broadcasted on TV, I'd be glued to the screen. I'd also record it and re-watch repeatedly because I was a complete sad case.

I've never really been able to put my finger on what attracted me specifically to him, but I guess we've all said that at some point about a potential paramour. He was extremely good looking, no doubt about that, but I just knew (in that confident way one does when they're a child) if we ever met he would definitely fall in love with me too.

I even formulated a plot that I would also pursue a career in running. The ultimate goal, though, was not to win the Olympics or complete multiple ultra-marathons - I was going to go through all of this so I could find a husband in Brody. Louisa Maxwell had such a nice ring to it, after all!

Ah, the innocence of youth, eh? In reality, I managed to place high in a couple of minor races over the years, then lost interest in competing around the age of 15. I have a tendency to be a pretty sore loser, so I needed to be first place. The fact that Brody ended up in a high profile relationship with a (stunningly beautiful) heptathlete around this period of my life had absolutely nothing to do with this decision.

(Of course it did. I was absolutely furious. How dare he move on from me when he hadn't met me yet and didn't know he was in love with only me?)

So my obsessive teenage crush on Brody is no secret. But what no one really knows is that, even as an (apparent) grown-up, he still remains my celebrity crush. And, at the moment, it is only the thought of him that kicks my libido into action at all.

Pathetic, right?

"I think Lou might have fallen into some sort of Brody-induced fantasy." Abby's teasing voice brings me out of my brief trance, and I have to hide a grimace at how close she actually is to the truth. I also can't help but notice that Mitch is frowning beside me - he's not jealous, is he?

"Anyway, I'm correct," I insist. "Trust me."

When it comes to Brody Maxwell, I'm always correct. And I'm still sure I'd be the right girl for him . . . If he ever met me. I mean, I'm an Aries, and he's a Sagittarius, for goodness sake! Our compatibility leaps right off the many astrology charts I painstakingly compiled throughout my teens to prove this!

As it stands at the moment, though, our paths sadly seem destined not to cross.

I'm not bitter. Honestly.

After acing sports (mostly thanks to me, with a little assistance from Ric), we go through food based questions and a Glasgow themed section before the all-important music round. As always, it's crucial to get the connection between all songs played to achieve maximum points, and we play a blinder, working out that all of the songs were released in the year 2000.

We win, of course. As an aforementioned sore loser, I'm happy once again that I only seem to be in attendance for the victorious weeks. It makes me feel like I'm the real M.V.P. on our team. Long may the streak continue!

"Sorry everyone, hold up . . ." Mike, our resident quizmaster, suddenly booms into his mic, causing us all to jump. "We just have to look into a small query about Quizzery Loves Company."

Oh. This must be it. I catch Beth's gaze, and she nods subtly, confirming my suspicion.

"What the hell?" Abby demands. "They're not disqualifying us, are they?" She glares at Mitch. "Were you looking at your phone again? I've told you so many times not to do that!"

"Actually, let me rephrase that," Mike adds once he's certain he's got everyone's attention. He walks towards our table, mic still in hand. "One of the team members actually has a question for a specific girl."

"I don't understand what's happening!" Abby still looks borderline furious as she turns towards her boyfriend. She doesn't like to lose either; it's clearly a Watson trait. "Ric, do you know what's . . ." Her words stutter to an abrupt halt as she realises that her boyfriend has unexpectedly commandeered the microphone.

I hiss in a sharp breath, already feeling those pesky tears prick at my eyes. I knew this was happening tonight (Ric had pre-warned us), but I wasn't prepared for how emotional I was going to feel.

And he hasn't even started speaking yet.

"Sorry about that, Abby, but you know I've never been able to resist winding you up," he begins, and our group can't resist a collective chuckle. It's no secret that Abby and Ric were a classic case of enemies-to-lovers; it therefore seems completely "on brand" that he would start the next stage of their relationship with a prank designed to irritate her!

Ric drops to one knee, and Abby's face is a picture of shock as she finally starts to realise what's happening. "Ric, what . . .?" She trails off again, her own eyes welling up. Thank fuck for that - I'm not going to be the only Watson to cry tonight!

"You already had most of my heart from the minute you verbally accosted me at my flat door two years ago," Ric tells her, dark eyes sparkling as he focusses on her completely. He might be speaking into a microphone, but they may as well be the only two people in the room right now. "But it was when I brought you here for the first time that I knew for sure there was a no returns policy on that heart." He laughs slightly self-consciously as he pulls the ring from his pocket. "So it seemed like the perfect place to do this."

"Stop rambling on and just do it then," Abby murmurs, and nervous titters trickle around the bar.

"So impatient, as always," Ric claps back, but the affection in his eyes is clear to see. "Abigail Watson, will you marry me?"

"Of course," she replies immediately. "Even though this is fucking mortifying." And then he's slipping the ring on her finger and they're kissing, arms wrapped tightly around one another; the perfect picture of a happy couple.

I want that, I suddenly think, raising a hand to swipe at my damp cheeks. I want what they have. The tears have finally escaped, but at some point they've morphed from the delighted variety into something more morose.

"Are you okay?" Mitch whispers in my ear, making me jump. I'd temporarily forgotten he was there.

I nod determinedly, launching myself to my feet, desperate to escape the table for a few moments. "Definitely."

Or I will be, once I've attempted to drink the pub dry of its alcohol supply.

My babies Abby and Ric are engaged!!! I hope you're all as delighted as I am!

Is Lou okay though? 😢