Jules shrugged. ‘Yeah. I don’t know how it will be when he meets someone else.’ She swallowed. Anxiety fluttered in her chest. She didn’t want to think about it.

*

Jules stood on the pavement outside a beautiful Victorian house, only five minutes from her own, which had recently been converted into two flats. I could live here, she thought, noticing the reflections from the street lights in the choppy waters of the Thames. It was Jules who had loved their old house at first sight; Paul needed some convincing. If it were left to him, they’d have bought a swanky penthouse with floor-to-ceiling glass and a good view, no doubt the sort of place he’d be ending up in next. She smiled at the thought, happy for him. He was walking lighter recently, looking healthier, happier. He was recovering, from me, she thought gingerly, but she was happy it was so. Her biggest regret wasn’t all the money she’d lost, it was the love she’d lost. It was the trust – and friendships – she’d gambled with that still kept her awake sometimes, but she was learning to accept what had happened; learning to accept herself. Perfectly imperfect, as Cindy liked to say. She stomped her feet to keep warm, watched her breath flare in the cold air. Above her was a clear and star-studded sky. She was content.

The estate agent, Laurie, pulled up in a flurry, angling his head out of the window to shout ‘Sorry!’ from a small branded mini, stalling and reversing a number of times in his attempt to parallel park. ‘Hectic start! It’s my first day! Listen, I hope you don’t mind but my colleague was supposed to be showing the flat above at the same time and she’s stuck in traffic…’

He finally parked and exited his car as Jules became aware of someone striding up behind her. She stepped to one side politely. ‘Hello!’ Laurie said cheerfully as he locked the car. ‘Mr Frey-Jackson, I presume?’ Jules’s head snapped around. One of the things Jules loved about Paul was his insistence when they married that they would each take the other’s name. She grinned as he reached her now, a spring in his step having spotted her. ‘I was just explaining that Daniella can’t make it, so I’ll be doing both viewings. I’ve just got to send an email. Won’t be a moment…’

‘You’re joking?’ Jules laughed, turning to face Paul.

‘Hello,’ Paul said, smiling at Jules, his cheeks pink with cold.

Laurie looked up from his phone, running his hand through his curly mop of hair. ‘You two know each other?’

Paul nodded, not moving his eyes from Jules. ‘We go way back.’ The air between them crackled.

Laurie looked between them, as if trying to read the situation, then back to his phone. Jules saw him pull up their email exchange and click on her name. Julia Frey-Jackson. He glanced up again, his nose screwed in concentration, as though he should know more about them but couldn’t recall what, then went back to the email he was writing.