And, OK, Tarkie may be a bit weird at times. He may have odd taste in clothes. And music. And everything. But there’s no way he’d ever be unfaithful to Suze, no way. The thought of how hurt he’d be if he found out is bringing tears to my eyes.

“I…” Her hands flutter round her throat. “What counts as unfaithful? Kissing?”

“You only kissed?”

“Not exactly.”

“Did you—”

“No!” She hesitates. “Not exactly.”

There’s a pause, while my imagination gallops round several assorted scenarios.

“Did you feel unfaithful?”

There’s another long pause. And suddenly there are tears in Suze’s eyes too.

“Yes,” she says, with a wretched defiance. “Yes. I wanted to be. I’d had enough. Tarkie was so miserable, and everything was so difficult in England, and Bryce was all fresh and positive and…you know…”

“Sex-god-like.”

I can remember Suze and Bryce meeting for the first time and thinking that there was a spark between them. But never in a million years did I think…

It just goes to show: I’m not suspicious enough. That’s it. I’m never trusting anything again. I expect everyone’s having affairs with everyone else and I just haven’t noticed.

“Exactly,” Suze is saying. “He was so different. So confident about everything.”

“So when did you…” My mind is spooling back, trying to work it out. “I mean, you didn’t go to Golden Peace that much….Was it in the evenings?”

“Don’t ask me when!” Suze cries out in anguish. “Don’t ask me for dates and times and places! It was a mistake, OK! I realize that now. But it’s too late. He’s got me.”

“What do you mean, he’s got you?”

“He wants money,” says Suze flatly. “Lots of it.”

“You’re not giving it to him, are you?” I stare at her.

“What else can I do?”

“Suze! You mustn’t!” I feel almost faint with horror. “You mustn’t give him anything!”

“But he’ll tell Tarkie!” Tears start pouring down Suze’s face. “And my marriage will be over….The children…” She stares into her tequila glass. “Bex, I’ve screwed up my whole life and I don’t know what to do. I couldn’t tell anyone. I’ve been so lonely.”

I feel a tweak of hurt. Well, possibly indignation. Well, possibly anger.

“You could have told me,” I say, trying to sound calm, as opposed to hurt and indignant and angry. “You could always have confided in me, Suze.”

“No, I couldn’t! You and Luke have this perfect relationship. You would never have understood.”

What? How can she say that?

“We nearly split up in L.A.!” I retort in disbelief. “We had a terrible row and Luke went home to England and I didn’t know if he’d even come back. So I think I might have understood. If you’d given me a chance.”

“Oh.” Suze wipes her eyes. “Well…Oh. I didn’t know things were so bad.”

“I tried to tell you, but you weren’t interested! You shut me out!”

“Well, you shut me out!”

We’re gazing at each other, breathing hard, both with flushed cheeks and tequila glasses clutched in our hands. I feel as if finally I’m peeling away the layers and saying to Suze what I really want to say.