‘We’ve never used coasters in the bar, Finn,’ Ned said.

‘But I have one,’ I said. ‘Small and round with fluted edges and “Muskerry Castle” printed on it.’

‘I thought you said you’d never stayed over?’

‘I haven’t.’

‘We only use those coasters in the bedrooms. In the bar, we’ve always used a cocktail napkin, American style.’

‘I must have picked it up when I was at that wedding, maybe, or I’m not sure, I …’

‘I believe you, thousands wouldn’t,’ Ned said, with a quizzical glance at Davy, and a ‘Byeee’ as he went back to his duties.

‘Well that was weird,’ Davy said. ‘What was it all about?’

‘Davy, I can’t say,’ I said. ‘I told you, it’s something to do with work.’

‘You’re a solicitor with a sudden professional interest in coasters?’

‘In a way, yes.’

‘Give me a break. All I know is, the minute Ned mentioned “bedroom”, you got very uncomfortable.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I said.

‘I’m ridiculous now, am I? Thanks.’

‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘It’s what you said, though. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?’

‘I can’t. You know I can’t.’

‘Oh, come on. Don’t give me this “client confidentiality” shit. I don’t believe for a second that this is about work.’

‘Well you’d better fucking believe it because it happens to be true.’

‘This is all about a case?’

‘I already said that it is.’

There was silence until Davy spoke again.

‘Let’s go,’ he said. ‘I’ve had enough.’

On the drive back to town, I felt Davy’s annoyance in every gear change and engine rev, but he didn’t say anything, and neither did I. He said nothing either as I got out of the car on Barrack Street. Every others time he had dropped me off, which wasn’t all that often, he had got out and given me a hug. Or leant across and kissed me on the cheek. Not today.

I watched him drive away. He wasn’t just annoyed, I realised. He was hurt.

In my bedroom, I tugged off my shoes without opening the buckles and dragged the purple dress over my head, leaving it crumpled on the floor where it fell. I pulled on pyjamas, sat in front of my mirror, and scrubbed at my eyes with make-up remover and cotton wool. Then I went upstairs to the living room, and paced. A lot of the reason I liked hanging out with Davy was that he didn’t ask questions. Maybe he knew not to: today, the one time he had asked me anything, I had lied to him.