Knowing how true that was, Claudia felt another burst of happiness, while thinking of the interior magazines she’d had to leave behind that contained lavish color spreads of her designs. It wasn’t possible to use them, for they connected her to the past. However, she had an impressive PowerPoint presentation on her iPad that didn’t identify her at all. “I should text Leanne Delaney to thank her for suggesting me,” she said, starting to clear the table. “Even if I don’t get the job, it was lovely of her to do that.”

“We could always,” Marcy suggested carefully, “invite her to celebrate with us, if she’s free, and if it happens.”

Claudia tried to picture it, someone else here in the flat, raising a glass with them as if they were friends. It was an exhilarating thought, and she’d certainly warmed to Leanne on the few occasions their paths had crossed.

I can do this, I really can, she told herself as she began collecting everything she was going to need. And by the time she’d lugged it all down to the car her imagination was so busy conjuring a dynamic and fruitful meeting that she didn’t even think to check if anyone was watching her.

Chapter Eight

Dan’s been here today and, surprise, surprise, he’s “very disappointed” by the last letter I wrote. “Archie,” he said, “you and I both know you can do better than this, so come on, lad. Step up to it.”

What he doesn’t seem to understand is that I never really care too much about disappointing people; I’ve been doing it for so long I might even be better at it than memorizing songs.

Anyway, he said he wouldn’t come back if I didn’t start playing the game (he didn’t use that phrase, because none of it’s a game to him), what he actually said was, “You’ve seen the last of me if this is how you’re going to behave.”

I said, “Bye, mate. Nice knowing you.”

He looked at me with those laser eyes of his and kept on looking at me until I chucked up my hands and said, “What’s going on, man? What do you want from me?”

“You know what I want.”

I did. He thinks you have a right to know about the person who hurt you, and he reckons that deep down I want to tell you.