‘I really don’t know. It sounds stupid, Rose, and I hate to say it, but like some kind of fatal attraction. He wouldn’t talk about it but he started – all the drinking again. He said something about some grand scheme, some old friends. And then this big cheese pulled out. I was so pissed off.’

‘And that’s when Hadi Kattan got involved?’

‘If he did, I never saw a penny from him. I only ever met his son once when he came down with some friends for a night. I know James was trying to appease me with the promise of money, though.’

Liam’s attention was distracted by something and I followed his gaze. Star appeared up on the podium opposite the VIP bar. In her thigh-high boots and slinky magenta dress she looked amazing; I saw Liam’s smile spread across his face. I’d never seen him like this before.

‘You’re really quite taken, aren’t you?’ I nudged him, and he blushed like an overgrown schoolboy.

‘Guess so.’ He took my hand. ‘God, Rose, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I was so shite earlier. I was just hungover and—’

‘And embarrassed,’ I finished for him.

‘I s’pose. Look, let me sort you out some cash. Give me your account details, I’ll get it transferred.’

He looked round at the jumping crowd beneath us, boys whistling, girls spinning, everyone sweaty and ecstatic as the music throbbed through the packed club. I thought of that night in Oxford lifetimes ago, the night I had first had sex with James, the night our toxic relationship really began, the music banging through my body in a way I had never known. I felt so tired now – like I’d never washed the guilt away, the dirt of that first night.

‘I’d appreciate it, Liam,’ I said quietly. ‘I really would. Just till I get sorted.’

‘And you will, my lovely, I know you will. And James will be just fine.’

I slipped off the stool. ‘And Katya?’

He sighed. ‘I’ll think on it, Rose, I promise. See if I can come up with some info.’

As Liam stood to hug me, my eye was caught by a couple behind him at the bar. The blond boy from the party, sweaty pale shirt undone almost to his waist, clinging to him like a second skin, arm draped round a young black girl in slashed leggings. He raised an indolent hand to Liam and then he caught my eye. We gazed at each other for a moment, and then, bored, he leaned down to kiss his companion’s glossy pout, his lashes sweeping down to veil his eyes.

‘Who is that?’ I said, my heart racing suddenly.

Liam raised a hand back. ‘That’s Charlie. He was at your party.’

‘Yeah, I recognise him. Charlie who?’