Hugo: Hey Evie. I’m sure you’ve read the news by now. About me and Vanessa. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. And that it happened so quickly after you and I ended things. I know you’re quite sensitive, so I wanted to reach out to let you know that it doesn’t diminish what we shared. I guess I’ve just found someone else who is more on the same page as me. I hope you find the same for you too. Truly. I’ve also decided to drop the legal charges, because I know you don’t need that mess right now with everything else going on in your life. All the best, Hugo x

Evie laughed. A hearty, guttural laugh. How very Hugo. All the best? Like they hadn’t just been sharing a life together only a few weeks ago.

‘I had no idea that Mary Queen of Scots was such a laugh,’ Florence said from the desk in front of her. She was typing rapidly at her laptop, her unruly hair hanging loosely around her shoulders.

‘No, no. Sorry. It was just a text from Hugo.’ Once Evie had become more comfortable with Florence, she had let it slip that she and Hugo had broken up. She’d figured it was better that it come from her, rather than Florence reading about it in some trashy gossip column the way Evie had. She suspected her disclosure may have been behind her invitation to the girls’ night that evening.

‘Well, it’s almost five. Sounds like a better time than ever to get a stiff drink into the both of us. I thought we’d pop by that pub on the corner first for a beer before we meet the others.’

Evie nodded. ‘Sure, that sounds fabulous. Let me just pack up.’

Evie was perched on a bar stool, positioned snugly between the two women who’d been at the cinema with Florence when Evie had pitched herself: Georgie Kingston (an up-and-coming film producer) and Laurie La-Mer (an up-and-coming actress). The three drinks Evie had already consumed made her confident and loud, and she was enjoying bantering with this group of passionate and wildly intelligent ladies.

When Florence, whose cheeks were flushed rose red, excused herself to go to the bathroom, Georgie leaned in and asked in a thick Scottish accent, ‘So, tell us, what’s Florence really like as a boss?’

‘Yes, tell us, is she horribly witchy?’ asked Laurie with a laugh.

‘No! Not at all. She’s brilliant. Fantastic. And I’m not just saying that. Working with her these past couple of weeks—well it’s been nothing less than completely life-affirming. She’s given me the confidence to believe in myself, as cringey as that sounds.’

‘Oh, honey. She didn’t do that. That was all you,’ said Laurie as if they were lifelong friends, and hadn’t only met properly an hour ago.