"I can’t stop crying" my friend said as we embraced yesterday. "I know, it’s just awful," I echoed.

Three of us had organised an impromptu catch up to talk and commiserate at our favourite café, run by a young Italian couple, which has become like a second living room to us.

We go there for the excellent coffee and food, free WiFi (which, admittedly we sometimes abuse by sitting for hours, working or searching property websites, fantasising about one day owning a studio apartment in the outer reaches of London) and friendly chats with the owners, who have become an integral part of our lives and our community.