Rory was the young lion, the centre of attention, charming the socks off everyone present. Thea was glad she wasn’t at his side. She didn’t want them to be seen as a couple. It wasn’t fair to him when he probably wanted a woman to end the evening with. No matter how charming he was, how appropriate their ending the evening together might have been, she wasn’t going to let him think anything like that would happen with her. But there were several other young women in the party, possibly not encumbered by scruples and damaged hearts, all hungry for his smile or anything else he might be giving away.

She sipped her mineral water. All she wanted to do was to drive home, on her own, and go to bed. She was so tired she could have slept where she sat and was just slipping into a state not far removed from sleep when she was aware of someone calling her name.

She looked up and saw Ben. ‘Thea,’ he said. ‘Can I have a word? In private?’

He spoke very urgently and Thea wondered what on earth could have happened. She got up immediately. ‘What’s the matter? Is it Toby?’

He shook his head ever so slightly, but lost nothing of his urgency. ‘Bring your bag and coat.’

Thea looked at Molly who seemed not to have noticed Ben’s appearance. Rory was Blarney-stoning one of Thea’s photographer friends and hadn’t noticed either. Thea picked up her jacket from the back of her chair.

Once in the street, he took her by the shoulders. Suddenly wide awake, she felt angry. ‘This is getting to be a habit, manhandling me in the street! Tell me what the problem is and let me get back to my friends.’

His fingers bit into her skin and he looked intently down at her. ‘I’m sorry. I hope I’m not hurting you. But I have to know. Are you really going to sit with that lot all night and get “rat-arsed” as you so elegantly put it?’

‘And why shouldn’t I?’

‘There’s something I want to show you.’ He made as if to push her along the road.

She forced him to stop, although he didn’t release his grip. ‘What is it? I can’t just walk out on everybody. I have responsibilities.’

‘Most of them are drunk and Molly will see to anyone who isn’t.’

‘But I don’t want to walk out on them!’

This time he turned and took hold of both shoulders, staring down into her face intently. ‘Don’t you really? Haven’t you had enough of braying women and sycophantic men, all wanting to know your private life and whether there’s anything in it for them?’

Honesty fought with pride and won. She shrugged.

‘Then come with me. I promise you, you won’t regret it.’

‘But where’s your friend? Popsy – Poppy?’