As if on cue, a tray appeared, glasses of champagne transferred from it to the table. Elizabeth had already taken a mouthful when James lifted his glass and proposed a toast.

‘To the bonds of friendship.’

She looked at him again. ‘Friendship only goes so far, James. Is everything okay?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Your marriage is crumbling, you stand to lose a lot of money to Stephanie, investors are bound to get the jitters when they see the mess the CEO is making of his life.’

Fraser reached a hand towards hers, but she shifted it further away. This was between her and Pelham.

‘It’s a limited company, Beth,’ Pelham said. ‘Nothing in my personal life can interfere with that. Your money is one hundred per cent guaranteed.’

‘That better remain the case.’

‘I’m almost insulted you show so little confidence. When have I ever given you cause—’

‘Maybe when your company began to be investigated for furlough fraud.’

Pelham’s Adam’s apple bounced as he swallowed. He took a sip of champagne.

‘How do you know about that?’

‘The Edinburgh Courant – same blogger who papped you coming out of that bloody hotel with your latest conquest.’

‘Unsubstantiated rumours.’

‘You mean you’re not being investigated?’

‘I mean it’s a simple admin error. The money will be repaid and no further action will be taken.’ He looked to Fraser Mackenzie and attempted a conspiratorial smile. ‘This is worse than that time in the bloody rector’s office – remember?’

Elizabeth was not to be diverted. ‘Your simple admin error could prove hellish costly in terms of both cash and reputation. And coming on top of the divorce …’ Having stated her case, she picked up her menu and began reading. Her husband followed suit, but Pelham just stared at the pristine white tablecloth.

‘I wish to hell I knew who it was,’ he said in an undertone. ‘That bloody internet troll, I mean.’

‘I thought it was an open secret,’ Elizabeth said without lifting her eyes.

‘What?’ Pelham looked to Fraser. ‘Do you know?’

‘Not the foggiest.’ He turned to his wife. ‘You’re a constant source of surprise.’

‘While you remain an open book, my love. Oysters, I think. Then maybe the venison. We’ll need a good bottle of red.’ She seemed only now to notice that Pelham was still staring at her. ‘You really don’t know who the Courant is?’

‘If I did, I’d bash their bloody brains in.’

‘Don’t be stupid, James.’

‘I’d pay someone then. A punishment beating.’

‘You’d pay someone to beat up a stranger? Christ, listen to yourself.’ She gestured towards their waiter, who, masked and visored, was hovering at a discreet distance.

Once the food was ordered, Fraser consulted the sommelier about the wine, eventually agreeing on a Barolo.

‘An excellent choice, sir.’

‘Better make it two bottles,’ Pelham barked, pointing a finger at Elizabeth. ‘I’m determined to loosen that tongue of yours.’