Chloe bent down and removed a copy of Henrietta’s Gift from her satchel, which was resting against the leg of her chair. Small yellow Post-it notes poked out from almost half the pages. She placed the book on the marble coffee table in front of her. ‘I’ve flagged each of the parts which intersect with my story, Charlie and Dot, which I know you read, Hugo. You proofread everything I wrote back when we were studying together. And I know you deleted it from my laptop, too. To cover your tracks.’ Chloe gestured to the overstuffed novel on the table. ‘As you can see, there are plenty of points of overlap.’

Evie desperately wanted to reach out and grab the book, but she kept her hands in her lap and waited for Hugo to speak.

‘Chloe, listen to yourself. You sound insane,’ he said. ‘Do you think a bunch of sticky notes prove anything? And I’ve told you time and time again, I’ve never heard of, or read, this “Charlie and Dot” story. Maybe you’ve confused me with your mum or something. I remember you liked to show her your work.’

‘I know you stole my story! You know it, I know it. I can’t believe you, Hugo,’ Chloe cried, losing her cool.

Evie bit her lip. Women can’t get mad. Otherwise we’re unhinged. We must stay composed at all times. Especially when we’re accused of being crazy.

Hugo’s frustration was boiling over. ‘Chloe, like I’ve told you before, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m sorry you were blindsided by our break up, but I’ve moved on. You need to too.’

‘Just a hundred thousand pounds and I’ll be out of your hair,’ Chloe said, her voice wavering a fraction.

‘No.’

‘Chloe, if you’re in some kind of trouble and need money, we can help you,’ said Evie, finding her voice. What she was hearing and seeing clashed entirely with her version of reality, but she was rattled. Hugo could be proud and even insecure at times, but he was brilliant and creative and honest. The Hugo she knew could never be so deceitful as to steal someone’s work and claim it as his.

‘God, I’m not “in trouble”. I just want Hugo to do the right thing,’ Chloe snapped.

Hugo turned to face Evie, his expression softening. ‘I’m sorry, Evie. I hate that you’ve been dragged into this shambles. I’m mortified.’

‘I know you have my story, Hugo,’ said Chloe, her face steely. ‘You may have wiped it from my laptop, but I know you must have a copy of it on yours.’

Hugo rolled his eyes. ‘Come on Chloe, isn’t that a bit of a stretch?’

‘If you’re so confident, then surely you wouldn’t mind somebody taking a look.’