She hadn’t intended the double entendre but Craig made a face and they both laughed. It was pathetically gratifying to have someone still consider you a sexual being, and she hated that she felt that way. Hated what she was thinking about Craig and his stupid wife who’d stolen him from her. Hated that she realised there was no going back, but fuck it, she was drunk and upset and he was here with his hand on hers.

‘It sounds like you did this guy a favour,’ Craig said, his fingers stroking the back of her hand. That skin on her hand had been elastic and tight when they first met, when they were young and naïve and full of energy. And now it was slack along with the rest of her body, driven south by age and gravity, as if she was melting into the floor unnoticed by the world. But not unnoticed by Craig.

‘I don’t know,’ she said, sipping her drink, feeling the burn.

‘Come on,’ Craig said. ‘It’s one thing to have an affair—’

Her raised eyebrows made him put his hands out in defence. ‘I know, I know.’ He bowed his head in mock deference. ‘I can never make up for what I did, I get that.’

She chewed her lip, a mix of thinking and signalling.

‘But this woman isn’t just sleeping around, she set him up for a fall. That’s another level of devious bastardry.’

‘And you would know about devious bastardry.’

‘I’m just saying.’

They both took a drink, Jenny looking around, Craig watching her.

‘Did you fancy him?’ Craig said eventually.

‘This isn’t the playground.’

‘Just asking.’

She smiled. ‘He is cute.’

Craig raised his eyebrows.

‘And he clearly works out,’ Jenny said.

Craig made a show of his guns and she laughed despite herself.287

‘I’ve always been secure about my masculinity,’ he said.

He was right, that was one of the things she liked about him, he wasn’t threatened by the idea of other men.

Silence for a moment, not uncomfortable.

‘How’s everything else?’ Craig said. ‘Is Hannah OK?’

Jenny shook her head. ‘She’s taken this thing with Mel really hard.’

‘Understandable.’

‘She thinks the police aren’t doing enough so she’s driving herself insane chasing shadows.’

The Italians at the next table finally had enough of the chilly air and trooped inside, leaving Jenny and Craig alone in the beer garden. It was near closing time but Jenny didn’t want this to end. She sipped the last of her drink and scudded the glass on the table. Maybe she was drunker than she realised.

‘There’s just so much death around,’ she said, waving her hands.

Craig spluttered into his pint. ‘You live in a funeral director’s.’

‘Good point.’ Jenny closed one eye and pointed like Columbo.

Craig finished his lager and looked at her glass. ‘One for the road?’