Turning onto the landing, Esther walked into a wall of smoke. Once she’d stopped coughing, she wiped away tears to see Susan standing moodily by an open window, ash dusting the tops of her shoes and regret shadowing her eyes.

Yoga must have been really bad.

“I’m so sorry—”

“I feel terrible—”

They stopped as quickly as they started.

“You first,” Esther said, tucking away a tight, guilty smile.

Susan sighed, flicked the butt of her cigarette out the window, and recrossed her ankles. “If I’m going to be apologizing, I’d prefer to do it only the once. Where’s Daisy?”

“Isn’t she with you?” Alarm flooded through Esther. She’d assumed Susan had been waiting there as vanguard for the recriminations she deserved for bailing on the two of them, but . . .

“What?” Susan frowned. “No, I thought she was with you.”

The two of them stared at each other in shame, Susan’s guilt multiplying Esther’s tenfold. If she’d thought there was the slimmest chance of Daisy being on her own, she never would have contemplated going to the pub with Vectra.

“I only flaked out because I thought she’d have you there.” The excuse sounded even more flimsy when Esther said it out loud.

“I was—should have been.” Susan shook her head in irritation and looked down at her phone, running her thumb over the screen. “I got waylaid and couldn’t use my phone until it was too late. Daisy’s not replied to any of the messages I sent her.”

Faintly, like a siren song a desperate sailor might cling to, there came a familiar hum from the bowels of the stairwell, echoing up to the fourth-floor landing. Instinctively, Esther drew closer to Susan, adopting a similar hangdog pose and penitent expression, facing the stairs and waiting for judgment.

A halo of golden curls edged into view, then the rims of Daisy’s owlish glasses, and . . . her smile?

“Hello, friends!” Daisy beamed at them. “Is this a welcoming committee?”

The force with which they flung themselves at her nearly resulted in a twelve-limb tumble back down the stairs. It was worth the risk to smother Daisy in love and apologies and promises not to let her down ever again.

Susan drew away first with an awkward cough and a mumble about popping the kettle on. As the three of them walked along the corridor to the kitchen, Esther asked how the club had gone.

“How did you manage to disentangle yourself?”

“Did you declare a preference for Pilates?” Susan suggested.

“Ooh, or did you make all your poses weirdly provocative?” Esther stretched into Tree Pose and cast a coquettish pout over her shoulder.

“Actually.” Daisy cleared her throat and gave a defiant tilt of the chin. “I decided to join up for good. It’s the only club I’ve been to where I feel like I really belong. I’m going again on Monday.”