It was the wrong thing to have said. He didn’t move a muscle but she saw the contradiction flash in his eyes and she felt her cheeks immediately burn.

No one stirred.

Clover swallowed. ‘We keep the team this small precisely so that it feels intimate,’ she said instead.

‘This isn’t intimate.’ A note of scorn fell upon the word.

She swallowed. Wrong again. ‘Unobtrusive, then.’

He laced his fingers together, resting his elbows on the chair’s arms. ‘Closed set. That’s my condition.’

Clover looked back at Johnny. Could it even be done? He exhaled, shaking his head. ‘I guess . . . I could set the cameras to a timer?’

Kit nodded, looking satisfied with that.

Matty stared at Clover like she was mad, like she was willingly stepping into a starved tiger’s cage. Clover forced herself to give a casual shrug in return. ‘Fine. It makes no difference to me,’ she lied. ‘If it will make Kit more comfortable . . .’

They waited in silence as Johnny double-checked both cameras’ settings, pressing various buttons to activate the timers.

‘Okay,’ he said finally. ‘They’ll start running in a minute. You’ll see the red light come on. Clo, you’ll need to hold up the clappers at the beginning. It’ll be a bit awkward – make sure you reach into shot – but we can cut it in the edits obviously.’

Matty reluctantly handed her the board with a look of concern. Clover took it with a forcibly relaxed ‘thanks’, even though she knew that having to do just this menial task would be enough to break her focus.

‘Thanks Johnny,’ she smiled, swallowing as her two friends, colleagues, allies and protectors headed for the stairs. ‘And can you tell Fin and Carlotta to stay in the kitchen until we knock? We don’t want any unexpected intrusions or background noises.’

‘They’re both in town,’ Kit said.

Clover looked back at him. ‘Oh. Well, Ari too—’

‘He’s in the gym,’ Kit said coolly, seemingly having all the answers. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll be quite alone.’

‘. . . Great.’

The others disappeared down the stairs; Clover wondered whether they would sit on the steps and try to listen in. She hoped not. She felt distracted enough.

They were alone, for the first time since that afternoon in the pool.

A silence bloomed as they waited for the red lights to flash. She twisted in her chair so that she could see the camera behind her, which shot full-length; the close-up camera, just off to his right side, would have been easier to watch for the timer, but this gave her an opportunity to escape Kit’s gaze. She could feel him watching her, sensing her discomfort.