We met in the most Essex way possible, sat on the floor of a uni corridor, getting briefed for a 36-hour coach trip across Europe to Croatia on sports tour. I was the last to arrive. There was a duck that kept triggering the automatic door open. I happened to have a loaf of bread with me, so I started tearing bits off to feed it. That’s when Tom turned to me and said: “You know it’s really bad to feed ducks bread.” I replied, “I think it just gives them diarrhoea, but they actually love it.” He said, “Fair enough.” And I knew it was love.