Luca followed them, tracking their guilty trail for the telltale shadow of a vodka bottle behind the toaster or rum in the bread bin, but there was nothing, just a plastic bottle of blackcurrant squash by the kettle and a pink-stained mug. He crossed the room, pretending to look for the keys too.

‘Hot Ribena.’ Pax picked up the mug and thrust it under his nose. ‘When we were kids, Lester used to make up a flask of “hot bina” to drink out hunting. It’s a habitual comforter. Did Mummy ask you to nanny me? Don’t answer that. Of course she did. I heard her.’ Her face lit up at the sight of her keys by the sink, dumping the mug there to retrieve them. She clicked her fingers for Stubbs to get in his basket, the grey puppy shadowing her as usual as she turned back to face Luca, frostily polite. ‘Please just get on with what you’re doing on the yard, Luca, and trust me when I tell you that I can drive.’

‘I apologise if I’ve misjudged the situation.’ Still certain she was covering, he noticed the anxious threading of the keyring from finger to finger, clumsily letting go so they dropped on the quarry tiled floor with a clatter that made the puppy streak away. Her hands were shaking too much to pick them up on the first attempt. Stooping over them, a sob wracked through her, furiously swallowed back down and masked with a cough.

‘I’m sorry too.’ She looked up at him, then quickly away. ‘It’s been a tough morning. I’ve just spent the past hour staring at that wine, willing myself not to open it, so you weren’t entirely wrong.’

Luca crouched beside her. He rarely gave anything much away about himself, least of all to someone he wasn’t sure he could trust, but he knew no other way to appeal for the truth than by offering it. ‘Pax, I’ve been where you are; I’m still there, if I’m honest.’

She stared across at him, unblinking. For a moment, he felt a collision of compassion. The look in her eyes he’d seen earlier was back, that emotional whirlwind. Then it was averted just as swiftly.

‘Oh, I don’t think so.’ She stood up briskly.

Luca stood too, catching her arm. ‘It’s easier to overcome it with help.’

‘Thank you for your concern, but I’m not about to wallow in self-pity. I must go.’ As she brushed past him, he caught another waft of liqueur sweetness.

‘How come it was a tough morning?’ He followed.

‘Not now, Luca.’ She was at the door.

‘You and Bay Austen looked pretty intense earlier.’

Her hand faltered on the latch. ‘That’s absolutely not your concern.’

‘With respect, it is if you’re drunk at the wheel.’

‘I am not drunk!’ She turned back, eyes huge.

‘Seeing Bay upset you.’

She crossed her arms, saying nothing.

‘I’ve been where you are,’ he reminded her.

‘Upset with Bay?’ she mocked him, cried-out hare’s eyes glowing golden. ‘And there was me thinking it was Mummy who pulled your strings.’