“But it’s too early to leave yet,” Katrina said. Then, thinking she could still save the evening, she added, “Stay and have a drink with us.”

Mae was nearby and added her voice to Katrina’s, putting her arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Don’t you know I might never see her again after tonight? You’re not going to drag her away already, are you?”

Katrina could see from John’s face that he wasn’t in the mood to joke with Mae, or to humour any of them for that matter. Instinctively she felt the need to mediate, and above all to get John away from there before he became even more displeased with her.

He was silent as they walked to the car, brushing off all Katrina’s attempts at conversation. Once they’d got in, she said, “What’s wrong, John? Why are you being so . . .” and then she didn’t know which words to use, and settled in the end for, “unlike yourself.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said with a short laugh. But he wouldn’t speak to her on the drive back to his flat.

“Have I done something?” she said at last, when they were nearly home. “I can see you’re upset—”

“I’m not upset,” he said. “You’re imagining things again.”

Again? she thought.

His strange, silent mood persisted once they were back in his flat, even though he initiated sex with her. Katrina hoped this meant things would return to normal between them, but John wasn’t loving like he usually was. He was distant and perfunctory, manoeuvring her into different positions in a way that seemed strangely impersonal, and not once looking into her eyes or kissing her. It made Katrina want to cry, but she managed not to.

Finally, as they lay next to each other, John said, “I can see why you were so keen to shake me off.”

“Shake you off?” Katrina said. “What do you mean?” She turned on her side to look at him, but he continued to stare up at the ceiling. She hated this most of all, she realized, the way he wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t seem to acknowledge her presence, even while speaking to her.

He said in the same quiet voice, “So you could go tarting around with all those men.”

“All those—? John, there were only two men there!” Katrina said, too baffled even to be angry.

“Yes, I’m sure you do know the exact number,” he said. “And when did you change into that miniskirt, or have you been showing your legs off like that all day?”