Things were very simple from Quin’s perspective: I’d hurt him, he’d hurt me back, and the counter was automatically reset to zero. But I was no longer the person I’d been before that night with Luke.

And right now, I wanted to know if Quin was still with Golden? Or someone else?

‘How are your sisters?’ he asked.

‘Helen’s pregnant! Sixteen weeks!’

‘Holy fuck! That’s…terrifying. Is she the first pregnant woman in the history of the world?’

‘No one has ever had morning sickness before. Or an ache in their lower back. The actual birth will be reported on the news like it’s a natural disaster.’

‘And Claire?’ He sighed. ‘I miss Claire.’

‘She misses you too. They all do. But everyone’s fine. What about Liberty and Finley?’

He brightened. ‘Liberty’s good. Going through a happier phase. And Fin is great. Does nothing but eat.’

‘That’s my boy. And your mum and dad? Michelle? Robert?’ He could feck off if he thought I was going to enquire about Shiv and Garrett.

‘All living their best lives.’ He threw me a wry glance. ‘Winning. At everything. Tennis. Happy marriages. Career trajectories.’

I wondered about asking if I could ‘reach out’ to them, then settled for saying, ‘Give them my love.’

Quin nodded at my empty glass. ‘Another?’

Oh. I looked at him with curiosity. Was I imagining that he was holding his breath? That I was?

There was a mood, as if a match were poised against flint, waiting to be struck. A moment passed. Then another. I exhaled. ‘No. Thanks. Work in the morning.’

He watched me, his expression hinting at something. ‘If I texted you in a few days, could we get a coffee?’

He was so confident, so persuasive, already certain I’d agree.

‘Quin. What about you and Golden? Was it a one-off…?’

My voice trailed away as I watched him flush. With an awkward laugh, he said, ‘We’re, ah—look, I don’t…She sometimes…Hey, you remember Prosser? How he and she…? Well, that’s still in play.’

‘And you too? You’re Golden’s sidepiece?’

‘…Ah, yeah. No.’

Fascinated, I watched his internal tussle: the consequences of a confession could be awkward, but he so badly wanted to boast.

‘It’s, as they say, complicated.’

As understanding dawned, I began to laugh. ‘Oh, Quin. Who is she? Not Shiv?’

‘Shiv?’ He rolled his eyes. ‘No. You don’t know her. Valeria is her name.’

Valeria? Where had I heard that…?

‘She works at the airport, at the private terminal.’

‘I’ve met her! One morning when I came to pick you up! She’s absolutely gorgeous. Young, though. Oh Quin, don’t treat her badly—’

‘I’m lovely to her.’ He gave me a longer look. As if to remind me of just how lovely he could be. ‘And she’s…great. Calls me Mr Quinlivan. When we’re—’ Abruptly he stopped.