‘Pull back?’ Josh said, amazed. ‘From Ben? Why would you want to do that?’

‘I have to meet him tonight,’ Cat said, oily tears smudging her eyes.

‘Ben?’

‘No. Him.’

A lift arrived, its doors sweeping open, and Josh and Cat automatically entered.

‘Not pulling back carries great risks,’ Cat explained whilst Josh selected the fifteenth floor for some unknown but uncontested reason. ‘If I don’t pull out,’ Cat said softly but lucidly, ‘I lay myself bare to even the possibility of future hurt. That, for me, is reason enough.’

‘Cat McCabe,’ said Josh, leaning against the wall of the lift, ‘you are way too strong to be so appallingly feeble. Don’t pull out. I don’t want you to. It would be very, very wrong. Ben is a lovely guy and he adores you. You would jeopardize so much if you don’t go for it.’ He watched her concentrating on the buttons of the floors, could sense that she was fighting tears. ‘What exactly would you achieve?’ Josh posed. Cat gave him no answer so he gave her the only one possible. ‘Big bloody deal,’ he said, ‘that on your deathbed, aged ninety-seven or whatever, you could concede that you made it through the rest of your life never having been hurt again.’ He gave her a gentle punch on the shoulder. ‘You have too much to give – and with your generosity, your great propensity for friendship and love, it’s inevitable that you draw people to you and that you’ll receive back what you provide.’

The lift arrived at the requested floor. Josh and Cat stood stationary, regarding the corridor on view. The doors closed by themselves, as if misuse was an occupational hazard. Cat sucked her bottom lip thoughtfully and then pressed for the floor from which they’d come. She looked at Josh a little bashfully.

‘I know,’ she whispered, ‘I wouldn’t feel vulnerable if I wasn’t involved. The fact that I’m involved, unequivocally, is alternately exhilarating and absolutely terrifying. Ben will be so far away. Missing him is going to hurt.’

‘Well,’ Josh said measuredly, ‘I can’t see your dilemma. Someone in love with you but far away. Someone who was mean to you but is near by.’

‘Near by?’ Cat whispered. ‘He’s in fucking Paris.’ Alarm criss-crossed her face. ‘Today. He wants me this evening.’

‘Fuck him,’ said Josh, ushering her out of the lift lest they should find themselves next stop in the bowels of the hotel via the lift with a mind of its own. ‘You’re coming out with us,’ Josh ordered, ‘it’s our last night too. Do you think we’re happy about having to let you go? About the end of a phenomenal three weeks? Another memorable Tour de France?’

‘I have to feel good about my past if I’m to greet the future,’ Cat said, ‘maybe I need closure.’

‘You sound like Oprah fucking Winfrey,’ Josh said.

‘Of course I’d rather he wasn’t here,’ Cat said, just before they arrived at the salle de pressé, ‘but he is and I’m having to deal with it. There must be a reason. I don’t know what. I’m terrified about seeing him tonight. But I have to. Will I be OK?’