“A fact that we’re all very aware of after existing in the same workplace with you for years,” Felix says tartly. He’s wearing very skinny jeans that cling to his thin figure, and his T-shirt is knotted sassily at his hip rather than hanging loose like everyone else’s. He’s also, for some reason, wearing heart-shaped red sunglasses. His hair is its usual tumbling mess, and I smile at him. I’m very fond of Misha’s sassy younger cousin.

He grins back at me. “So, you and Misha are together now?” I nod, and he turns, snapping his fingers at Zeb. “You owe me a hundred quid.”

Zeb makes a resigned face and digs in his pocket for his wallet. “Okay, but I need to check the betting book to see whether you’ve won that much. I’m sure the odds changed this week.”

“The book?” Misha echoes in disbelief. “Have you been betting on Charlie and me sleeping together?”

Jesse laughs. “Of course they fucking have. It’s obviously very boring in their office since I left.”

“Boring or bearable?” Felix says.

Max laughs. It’s a warm and infectious sound that fits the tall, wide-shouldered man. He has a crazy air of effervescence about him. A naughtiness that’s infectious and makes everyone smile back at him. Everyone apart from Felix, who just shoots him an enigmatic glance.

“I can’t believe you’ve been betting on my love life,” Misha says in a mournful tone. “You’re a massive bunch of dicks.” He smiles at Max. “I’m excluding you from that insult because you’ll have been out of it, not being in the office.”

Max shrugs. “I wouldn’t bother. I had you shagging by Christmas.” He frowns. “How did you last this long? Where did you get your willpower from?”

“Well, we don’t all drop our Calvin Kleins at the first sight of a man,” Felix says tartly. “Some of us wait for a bit which you really should try. Your frantically overworked privates might appreciate a rest at some point in time.”

Max’s eyes gleam at that sally and he opens his mouth to reply, but I clap my hands frantically to stop the comment.

“Okay, shall we make our way to the start line?” I say brightly, feeling like I’m working at a children’s holiday camp in Butlin’s.

Max and Felix exchange glances, but the group follow my directions and wander to where everyone is gathering.

Despite Misha’s misgivings, the walk is actually lovely. People chatter happily as we form a long line of walkers, and many wear glow sticks and funny hats. It’s a cold evening, so it’s nice to work up a glow, and London is beautiful at night, all the old buildings lit up like they’re on stage.