Jenna has barely raised her gaze from her place setting since they all sat down. As the waiter places a plate of steaming fish and sautéed potato in front of her she leans to her left. Her gaze flicks towards Tom. He’s chatting to Erica and she’s in full flow, gesticulating wildly, her eyes never leaving his face. He smiles and nods then, sensing he’s being watched, glances in Jenna’s direction. Her stomach hollows, just as it’s done every time he looks at her, but now the sensation is accompanied by a wave of anger.

‘Some people,’ Damian bellows, from the other side of the table, ‘are wolves in sheep’s clothing.’

Kate, sitting at the head of the table, takes a sip from her wine, watching from above the rim of her glass.

‘Who’s a wolf?’ Alan, sitting to Jenna’s right, leans forward, sniffing gossip.

Damian laughs and sets his wine glass down. It’s empty, and so is the bottle of red wine in front of him. Jenna shoots him a warning look. Subtly, she pinches her lips together with her thumb and index finger.

He raises his eyebrows. ‘What?’

Jenna steals a look at Kate. Tim and Bessie have dragged her into their conversation about property prices in London. She didn’t hear what Damian just said.

‘Hey, waiter!’ Damian waves his hand in the air. ‘One more of these.’ He points at the empty bottle of wine.

Beneath the table, Jenna grips her knees. Her heels bounce on the restaurant floor. Giving Damian more booze is like pouring petrol into a bottle and then setting it alight. And she doesn’t want to be there when he goes off.

Alan nudges her with his elbow. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Fine.’

‘You sure? You’ve barely touched your food. Should I get a waiter? Or I could tell Kate—’

‘No, no. The food’s fine. I’ve just …’ She pushes back her chair. ‘Excuse me a minute.’

If she’s not at the table to give Damian the reaction he’s after, he might let it drop. Or at least turn his attention elsewhere.

She stands up so quickly that her thighs nudge the table, making it shake.

‘Oh god,’ Alan shoots her a sympathetic look. ‘You haven’t got the shits have you? I didn’t feel right after lunch at the cafe and—’

‘I’m fine, honestly.’ Out of the corner of her eye she sees Damian raise both hands in the air.

‘Oi, Jenna! Where you going?’

He continues to call after her as she hurries through the restaurant but she doesn’t look round. Instead, she opens the glass door, crosses the courtyard, and heads for the bar. The barman, polishing glasses behind the counter, looks up as she enters.

‘How can I help you?’

‘A bottle of red wine, please. Dry.’