I bloody love those lads.

Sue pops her head in. ‘Sorted?’

‘Sorted myself a load of extra work,’ I say, but I’m smiling as I grab the paperwork and get ready to plead his case with the Foyer.

I’m holding on the line when it hits me: I’ve been telling the lads for years that they can change, without ever believing that it applies to me. Sure, I’m in a better place than I was when I was their age, but that wouldn’t be hard. And despite my job and my flat, and even my new name, deep down I’ve always felt like Darryl Lennox, who betrays everyone, is nothing underneath the charm.

But these last weeks I have felt more like the Dan that Vijay and Gemma and Casey see.

The thought is so shocking I almost drop the phone. I am changing because they believe in me – same as I believe in lads like Finn. And sure, they don’t know the ins and outs of my shoddy past. But if I want Finn to be judged on who he is today and tomorrow, not who he was yesterday, don’t I deserve the same?

‘Sorry to keep you hanging on. So you’ve got someone you want to refer?’

For a second I forget I’m on the line to the Foyer. ‘Yes. Finn Mackenzie. He’s had a rough time, but I reckon, with your support, he can turn everything round.’

By the time I pick Casey up, I’ve decided I’m going to tell her about the penthouse this afternoon. We go to BayCaff and I buy her a slice of banoffee pie, to soften the blow. Though when the pie arrives, covered in clouds of whipped cream, I wonder if it’ll be too tempting for her to throw it back in my face.

All she wants to talk about is Harrison. What he’s like. What he likes.

‘Do you know what star sign he is? I’m a Taurus, so my best match would be Aquarius.’

‘I think he was born in October. Or February. One of those.’

She tuts, annoyed by the sketchiness of my answers. Already she knows more about him than I do, as they’ve been WhatsApping since they swapped numbers last night.

‘He says he lives mostly with his mum, up near where Gemma lives. Have you ever been there? Is the house massive?’

My jaw tightens and the tinnitus turns shriller. ‘Yes, before his mum and dad split up I used to go to their house, and it is pretty massive.’

‘So they are as rich as Harrison says they are?’

I laugh. ‘He told you they were loaded, did he?’

‘He wasn’t showing off. He’s not that kind of boy,’ she says, and I try not to smile, because if he wasn’t showing off, how did she know?

‘They’re pretty well off.’

‘So how come his dad lives in a tent in his mum’s back garden? Is he a hippie?’

‘It’s not really a tent. It’s a deluxe Mongolian yurt, with its own rainfall shower. But it’s temporary.’ Now is my chance to explain why. But her lilac eyes fix onto mine with such trust that I can’t bring myself to do it yet – I’m too much of a coward. ‘He used to live on the Harbourside too, but he’s had to move out for a bit.’