Gordon wouldn’t have been bothered by a threat from Lucio, but the ever-ingratiating Paolo losing it with him came as a shock. There was a disturbing intimacy to Paolo’s question. Clearly the Italians thought Gordon was making some accusation or, worse, suggestion in relation to them and Leonie. But their hostility hinted at something personal about him that had been disgusting them for a long time. Did they even know him well enough to be disgusted by him?

He could tell neither Kelly nor Leonie about this debacle, and prayed that word would not get back.

‘Ah, we’ve got a big group?’ a voice was saying now, male, twenties, passive-aggressively metrosexual, its tone pettish, as if continuing a conversation already started. Gordon raised his eyes as far as the speaker’s ankles—bare, sockless between cuffs of dark-blue twill and expensive leatherwork—and made no sign of leaving.

‘Come on, Gordon.’

Kelly was on her feet. Gordon remained. A commotion ensued as metro-fuck-knuckle and his group distributed themselves around smaller tables they dragged together. Gordon ignored their huffs until a dumpy woman in her fifties, incongruous among the party, some kind of office administrator he guessed, said, ‘Excuse me, sorry to disturb you. Do you mind if we use your table when you’re done?’

Kelly was rolling her eyes. ‘I’m going to work.’

Gordon gave the dumpy woman a warm nod and cleared his table. As the party moved in, Gordon said to fuck-knuckle, ‘Hope you learnt something from your elders.’

The man blinked at Gordon as if affronted by a violation of vagrancy laws.

‘Show a little courtesy,’ Gordon said with a nod towards the quiet and now unfortunately embarrassed older woman, ‘and you’ll get what you want.’

As he walked off, he heard one of the party murmur, ‘What is wrong with that guy?’

‘Everything,’ he heard Lucio sigh.

‘Gordon, you are so your own worst enemy,’ Kelly said once they were out of earshot. It struck him that his point had been lost, because the real audience for his actions, the office party, would forget him instantly whereas someone who was not its audience—Kelly—would figure that Gordon, after all these years, was finally cracking up.

‘I think I could contribute a lot to a customer-facing business,’ he said. ‘It just has to be done the right way.’

Kelly studied him for a long moment, as if conducting an assessment. ‘Sometimes I wonder if there really is something wrong with you.’