“Why?” I ask curiously. We’ve spoken about this before, but it’s the first time we’ve done it sober. I’m sure he’s answered it before, but either it didn’t make sense, or I wasn’t listening, or I’d passed out.

“Because Misha is a complete tart and I’m not,” he says, smiling at me. I’m relieved to see the colour coming back into his face. “And we don’t see each other like that. We were friends too long for that.”

“Oh, okay.” I was right. It doesn’t make sense.

“Do you want to get Chinese?” he asks.

I shrug. “Sounds good. You need an early night then and so do I. My eye is killing me.”

He smiles kindly at me. “Do you want me to get you an ice pack?”

I shake my head. “No.” My phone starts to ring and I raise a finger and answer it, surprised to hear Felix.

“Jesse, are you settled in for the night?”

“Not really.” I tug at my tie. “It’s only seven o’clock. I’m not sixty and Midsomer Murders is a repeat.”

He chuckles. “Can you come back in?” he says apologetically.

“Now? Why?”

“Zeb needs to see you.”

“Oh, has he forgotten a misdemeanour he needs to bollock me about?” I say sourly. “What a tragedy.”

He laughs. “Can you come in or not?”

“I notice you’re not denying it.” I look at Charlie and sigh. “Okay, I’ll be there in a bit.”

I click End and Charlie grins at me. “Going to pay a late-night visit to Mr Super Sexy?”

“I wish you wouldn’t call him that.”

He nudges me with his foot. “You wish I wouldn’t, or that you didn’t call him it in your head?” I groan and he laughs. “You’re in denial, Vivian.”

He likes to call me this, and no matter how much I tell him that I’m not a prostitute with thigh-high boots, he keeps at it.

“I didn’t kiss him on the mouth, Daddy,” I say in a high voice.

“You’re my boy now,” he growls, and I snort.

“Okay, enough. It’s making me uneasy. I’m going to have a shower.”

“Make sure you clean all your crevices,” he says and chuckles to himself.

Half an hour later, showered and dressed in Levis and a black shirt, I push my hand through my still-wet hair. “Right, I’m off. I’ll be back later. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says firmly. The doorbell rings and his face brightens. “That’ll be Misha.”