‘I just can’t. I’m not in the form. I’m distracted, I spent a lot of the day on the sofa listening to country music and the rest of it …’

‘You love country music,’ Davy said.

‘I know,’ I said.

‘So where’s the problem except that your day got even better because your wonderful friend – your “just good friend”, nothing more – booked your favourite restaurant?’

‘Davy, I appreciate the gesture …’

‘Whoa,’ Davy said, and sat up in bed. ‘Gesture? Is that what this is to you?’

‘I don’t mean it as an insult. I’m just not up to it. I want to do a bit of work, if I can, I haven’t been able to all day, but now I think I could, I have to, there’s so little time …’

‘Great,’ Davy said. ‘Glad to have been of service.’

‘That’s not what I meant. But you know how important this case is to me.’

‘I do,’ Davy said. ‘But I thought we were important too. Or is this how it’s going to be? You working, and fitting me into your schedule when you feel like a quick shag?’

Then would have been the time to tell him about Gill’s visit, and about Carmel.

‘I’m not going to be controlled by you, Davy,’ I said instead. ‘Or emotionally blackmailed. I’ve said I’m not going out, and I’m not.’

‘So I’m blackmailing you now, is it, just because I’ve booked a fucking restaurant for dinner? Where we could actually talk, for a change, or would that be so wrong? Jesus Christ.’

Davy got out of bed and looked down at me.

‘I’ve news for you, Finn. Label it what you like, be it “friends with benefits” or “just good friends”. But whatever this is, it’s not going to cut it with me. We’re either fucking each other and having a relationship, or we’re not. And when you decide what you want, let me know and I’ll see if I’m still available.’

He got dressed in silence.

‘Don’t go,’ I whispered. ‘Not like this.’

‘Oh I’m going all right,’ Davy said.

He left the bedroom without saying goodbye and I heard the front door shut behind him with a soft click. He was gone, he couldn’t be, but he was. In my mind’s eye, I saw him walking away and never coming back. I jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs, pulling on my robe as I went. By the time I reached the gate, he was most of the way down the lane.

‘Davy, stop,’ I shouted. ‘I can explain.’

He turned.

‘Explain what?’

‘Explain why I can’t go out tonight,’ I said. ‘Come back.’

He thought about it, then walked halfway back.

‘I’m listening.’

‘I had a bad day,’ I said. ‘Starting with my visitor this morning.’

‘Who?’