Before we got out of the MPV I sent Charlie a friend request. I wanted to see what she’d do.

I wasn’t hungry, and picked at my food while the other three laughed and joked. Henry really was a nice bloke, a bit gruff and rude, but funny. Rachel talked to him like he was a naughty child, a role he played with relish. Tilly seemed in excellent spirits too, much better than she had at the turn of the year. I hadn’t seen her so happy for a long time. It turned out she’d found out today that she was being promoted at work and getting a decent pay rise.

‘What’s up, bruv?’ she asked, eyeing the way I was picking at my food. ‘You’re not really worried that Charlie has a secret husband, are you? There’s no sign of one on Facebook. Not that you’d know.’

They all started laughing and I said, ‘Karen died.’

The laughter stopped.

‘Karen?’ Tilly said. ‘What, that older woman you had a thing with?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Oh my God, what happened?’

‘I don’t know. I saw her a few weeks ago. I did some work for her. I went round there today because she owed me for the work, and her neighbour told me she was dead. He didn’t know what caused it.’ I rubbed my arms. ‘He also told me some really spooky shit about a dark spirit following me around, causing all my bad luck.’

Henry gave me a serious look. ‘A dark spirit? Really?’

‘Don’t tell me you believe in all that stuff,’ I said.

‘Yeah, I do. Spirits are real. My mum’s a clairvoyant. She talks to them all the time.’

I couldn’t help it. I started laughing, and I couldn’t stop. The three of them – and everyone around our table – stared at me as I doubled over, tears streaming, my stomach convulsing at the image of Henry’s mum, who I pictured as a middle-aged female biker, chatting with ghosts in her kitchen.

Seamlessly, the laughter turned into tears, and instead of laughing, I was weeping, my face in my hands, body shaking, and I felt a broad arm around my shoulders and could feel all the eyes that had been staring at me turning away.

‘Come on, mate,’ Henry said. ‘Let’s go and get some air, eh?’

‘No, it’s fine. I’m just going—’

I dashed off to the gents and locked myself in a cubicle, sitting on the closed toilet lid, letting the last of the tears come. When I’d finished, I blew my nose, left the cubicle and washed my face.

I rejoined the others at the table.

‘Are you OK?’ Tilly asked, a concerned expression on her face.