My best friend left the Financial Times a few weeks ago. She wanted to leave and her departure, after a long notice period, was expected. But it came as no less of a blow. She was lightened and excited by her new horizons. I was left behind. And I was very sad.

My family were taken aback by such angst. I am not given to big displays of emotion. “What are you, 14? Get over it,” was my daughter’s critical assessment.

But it was hard to “get over it”. After 17 years, I had to find a way to be at work without my friend. I had barely arrived at the FT before I became friends with Sarah. Our friendship grew from working on the same team to having lunch when we had both moved on, then to seeing each other outside work. Over the years, our talk moved seamlessly between work and home, an effortless, constant dialogue.