‘In his case, yes,’ she replied with trademark bluntness. ‘Next you’ll be wanting to bring him to my birthday dinner.’

I saw my horrified face reflected back in the glass of the recording booth. Sumi’s birthday. She hated parties, detested surprises and was universally accepted as the most difficult person to buy for on the face of the earth and yet, every year, she insisted we ‘do’ something, even though she refused to give any sort of direction as to what the something should be, where it might take place, at what time or for how long.

But I was up to the challenge. In fact, I was going to ace it.

‘Sumi.’

‘Ros.’

‘Did Jemima book anywhere yet?’

‘No,’ she replied, already distracted. ‘She’s been away, she’s not back until Friday.’

‘Let me plan your birthday,’ I said, suddenly feverish with excitement.

Sumi paused before she replied as I pressed my hand against my forehead to check I wasn’t actually feverish. What was I thinking?

‘You know I don’t want a fuss,’ she replied.

This was a lie.

‘Something quiet, just us.’

Another lie. A previously prepared guest list would be forwarded at some point in the next hour and it would include at least seventeen people. It always did.

‘It’ll be perfect,’ I promised, already scribbling down ideas on my notepad. ‘Just keep Saturday night free and await further instructions.’

I heard her breathe in, second-guessing herself before she spoke, and I knew exactly what she was going to say.

‘You’re not going to bring him, are you?’ Sumi asked.

‘Not to be an arsehole but yes,’ I said, kind but firm. ‘I would really love it if you could give him one tiny chance to prove he’s not actually Satan himself.’

She huffed down the line. ‘And I would really love it if Kristen Stewart showed up on my doorstep with two cats and a minivan but that doesn’t seem very likely either.’

‘Don’t give up on that dream just yet,’ I said, scribbling down notes. ‘I’ve got four days to make magic happen.’

‘Ros Reynolds, if you throw me a Twilight-themed birthday party, so help me god, I’ll murder you.’

I crossed out my first idea.

‘I promise he’ll be on his best behaviour and, if he isn’t, you can be incredibly horrible to him and hunt him for sport. Please can I invite Patrick?’

Sumi considered the request.

‘I can hunt him for sport?’

‘Yes.’

‘Like in Hunger Games?’

‘You can go full District 12, with my permission.’

‘Then he may attend.’

‘You won’t regret it,’ I promised.

‘I almost certainly will,’ she replied. ‘But I want to be proven wrong. Right, I’ve got to go.’

‘Important lawyering?’ I asked, firing up my computer.