My stomach lurched again as I guessed what I was about to hear next. A sick, sinking feeling that spread to my arms and legs.

‘And?’

‘I was flattered.’

‘Then what?’

She paused, looked away.

‘What happened, Mel?’ My voice was hoarse.

‘And then he leaned in and kissed me.’

It was like being sucker-punched in the back of the head. I felt dizzy, disoriented.

‘What did you do?’ My words seemed to fall over each other.

She shrugged, a tiny movement as if the answer was obvious.

‘I kissed him back.’

‘And then what?’ Heat was rising to my face.

‘He said he was staying in the penthouse and that there was more champagne in his room. And strawberries for breakfast. That kind of brought me to my senses and I ran out of there as fast as I could, jumped in a cab and came back to our hotel.’

‘How long did it last?’

‘The conversation?’

‘The kissing.’

‘A minute? A few minutes, maybe.’

‘Maybe?’ I tried to keep my voice level.

‘Not very long. I was drunk. I’m so sorry.’

I stood up, paced the room once, twice.

A kiss. Just a kiss, two years ago. Nothing else. They were drunk. It happens. It changes nothing.

‘Talk to me, Joe,’ she said, her voice cracking. ‘Come and sit down again.’

I sat down next to her on the bed again, trying to blink the dizziness away.

‘Jesus, Mel. This is a bit of a bloody bombshell. What the hell were you thinking?’

‘That was it, I wasn’t thinking. It was the booze. That’s no excuse –’

‘No, it isn’t.’

She paused, seeming to choose her next words with care.

‘I’m so sorry, Joe.’

‘Nothing else happened?’

‘It was just a snog, that was all. A stupid, drunken snog.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me about it then, or since?’

‘Because I was mortified, couldn’t believe what had happened, and worried about how you’d react. By the time I’d started to get over the shame, it seemed like there wasn’t any point in telling you because it was over and done with, all in the past. Obviously I couldn’t tell Beth because she’s a friend. And anyway, nothing really happened. Not really.’

‘But you’re telling me now.’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

She sniffed and dabbed her eyes with the tissue again.

‘The thing was, after that night, Ben was . . . different.’

‘With you?’

‘Yes. He never let me forget it.’

17

Something clicked in my head, like two cogs slotting together.

‘He wanted more, didn’t he?’

She nodded.

‘He wanted us to be together. Obviously we’d known each other since university, through Beth, and we’d seen each other at parties, weddings and christenings in the years after. Stuff like that. Nothing had ever happened. But then after Charlotte and Gary’s wedding, he friended me on Facebook and got my email address somehow, then my mobile number. He wasn’t creepy about it, or weird, in fact he was mostly quite sweet and funny and chatty, at least to begin with. At first I wasn’t too bothered by it, but then he’d want to get closer, make it more than friendship, and the contact would increase – from his side, at least. I tried to keep him at arm’s length, and got him to back off a few times, then he’d relent and say we could just be friends. Really good friends. But I knew it wouldn’t be enough for him, and it would start up again. You know what he’s like.’