Hannah gaped. ‘What?’

The ice in his glass clinked, as if he wasn’t quite so calm as he appeared. ‘Confession time. I’ve never gone “hunting” in terms of taking a gun and killing creatures.’

‘You haven’t?’ Hannah thought of the weekends he’d packed overnight things and given her to understand he’d be doing exactly that. Her repulsion. His intransigence.

‘It was convenient to let you think that but our community, we’re called “hunters”.’ He waited, as if expecting her to catch on.

She failed. ‘What are you on about?’

A tiny smile played about his lips as if she was being incredibly thick. ‘We’re always “hunting” for the next sexual encounter. There are clubs. We like to live in the moment, shut the world out. Sex with strangers does that.’

Hannah felt dazed. ‘Like swingers? Being polyamorous?’

He inclined his head. Then, when, stunned, she could do no more than gape, he added, ‘It’s an indulgence.’

Her hand had begun shaking. Very carefully, she put down her glass. ‘I never satisfied you? Not even when things were good between us?’ She felt sick. The conversation had spun far from the path she’d anticipated.

‘No one woman could. That’s the point. Hunters are always hungry.’ He went on talking, calmly, graphically, about indulging his taste for group sex and stranger-sex.

Anger flooded through her as he calmly described the way he’d been fooling and humiliating her. ‘So what’s this polyamory stuff got to do with my shop?’ she snapped.

He sipped before replying. ‘From those premises—’ he didn’t call it her shop ‘—I’m going to run a discreet club “for the curious”. Less tacky than arranging it via an app. People of like minds. Away from prying eyes.’

‘In Gamla Stan?’ She tried to picture a sex club amongst the tourists, the shops, the churches.

He shrugged. ‘It’s not illegal.’

‘But it’s my shop!’ she all but wailed, misery sweeping away her anger.

He leaned in and patted her hand. ‘I’m sorry, Hannah. It’s not. It never was.’ He was polite and civilised but inexorable. ‘I drew up a plan while you were away. Whatever’s in your business bank account is yours, obviously. In addition, you’ll be owed the value of your stock. I’ve told Julia to perform a stocktake and give me the figure, then I’ll dispose of it to a reseller. I’ll also return the advance rent you’ve paid and—’ he made a rocking gesture with his hand ‘—a little goodwill because you would obviously have anticipated a mark-up.’

Hannah could hardly believe her ears. ‘But,’ she stammered, ‘you’re keeping me away from my stock. That’s stealing.’