‘Alistair had left his wallet at home.’ She shrugged again. It was a small thing. He could see her trying, even now, to brush it off. Could see that it still hurt.

‘How did you meet?’ he couldn’t help but ask, curious about the man Lily would have married.

‘In London, in V’s bar. He was in investment banking. Or said he was. Probably knew I wouldn’t delve too deeply. Who would? Who really knows what investment banking is?’

‘I do,’ he said.

‘Yeah, OK. Fine. You do. But I didn’t.’ She cut him a mock evil glare that wouldn’t have frightened a kitten. ‘He was tall, lanky ginger. But cute. There was something wry about him that I liked. And he just overwhelmed me. Pursued me. With words anyway. Within months we were living together – because apparently it seemed unnecessary to spend money on two places when we were together all the time anyway.

‘So I moved out of V’s and we moved into a flat together in South London. It made sense at the time, but … I didn’t realize that he barely contributed to bills or things round the house. He was too tired after a long day, his money was wrapped up in personal investments … Anytime we did talk about money, there would always be a pay day on the horizon in the distant future. But … he was funny. Charming. Perhaps a little too charming.

‘He was always forgetting things, his wallet, paying bills. He’d say, “What would I do without you?” I felt … needed.’ She paused, clearly thinking back to the way it had been with him. ‘And anytime that I’d get frustrated or annoyed, he would turn it back on me. Say that I was distracted by the cooking course, that I didn’t have enough time for him. And every time something went wrong, it wasn’t his fault. His company restructured and he lost his job – I now doubt that was the case. He was probably fired. But his helplessness gave me someone to look after. To care for. It made me feel necessary in his life. It made me feel … wanted.

‘He proposed almost accidentally. He didn’t even have a ring, but at the time I’d thought it was romantic. So we made plans, sent invitations, saved money. I told the girls, my mother. There’s a lovely registry office in Peckham.

‘And then a month before the wedding, pouf. He just disappeared.’

‘With your money.’

Lily nodded and there was nothing pretty about the blush that rose on her cheeks. He could tell it was one of shame, embarrassment.

‘I’m hardly the person to give relationship advice—’

‘Henry Hawkesbury, you shock me.’

‘But,’ he pressed on, ‘the guy sounds like a real shit.’

‘Yup. That was Alistair.’