‘What if he sees you making conversation with Lois tonight?’

‘Suze, this isn’t the Cold War! I’m allowed to talk to people! I’ll just say we were chatting. Can you hook me up?’

As Suze starts pulling at the fabric of my corset dress, my phone bleeps with three new texts, all in a row, and I reach for it on a nearby chair.

‘Stop it!’ Suze scolds me. ‘I can’t hook you if you move around. It’s only a text.’

‘It might be an emergency.’

‘It’s probably just Luke.’

‘What do you mean, just Luke?’ I say, punching in my code. ‘I wouldn’t say it’s “just” Tarquin.’

‘Yes you would, you say it all the time.’ Suze wrenches at my dress. ‘Are you sure this is the right size?’

I can’t answer. I’m staring at my phone in a state of shock.

‘Bex?’ Suze pokes me. ‘Hello?’

‘She’s coming,’ I say at last.

‘Who’s coming?’

‘Elinor. Here.’

‘Now?’ says Suze in alarm.

‘No, not now, but soon. In a week or so. I sent her a text, asking her to come, but I never thought she would—’ I turn to face Suze, suddenly petrified. ‘Oh God. What shall I do?’

‘You’ll stage an intervention, remember?’ says Suze. ‘Because you’re so brilliant at conflict resolution, remember?’

‘Right.’ I swallow. ‘Yes.’

Somehow it all sounded better in theory. But the idea that Elinor is actually going to get on a plane to LA, and Luke has no idea, and I’ll have the two of them to manage …

‘Suze, you have to help me,’ I say plaintively.

‘I’m not helping you!’ she says at once. ‘Count me out. I always thought it was a bad idea.’

‘It isn’t a bad idea! It’s just … it might be more difficult than I thought.’

‘I thought you were an expert,’ says Suze, rather unfeelingly. ‘I thought you had a variety of techniques up your sleeve and Buddha would guide you with his infinite wisdom.’ She pauses, then adds, ‘Tell you what, I’ll buy you some more wind chimes, if you like.’

‘Very funny.’

‘Well honestly, Bex, you must be nuts. What happened about Elinor’s surgery, anyway?’

‘It was cancelled,’ I say, reading the third text again. ‘It was only a minor procedure on her toe.’

‘Her toe?’ Suze stares at me. ‘I thought she was dying!’

‘So did I,’ I admit.

‘Well, I think you should cancel her. Say you made a mistake and you won’t be here.’ She prods my shoulder. ‘Turn round. There’s one more hook to do.’

I turn round, thinking hard. That’s the obvious option. The easy solution. I could text Elinor back. Tell her not to come; make some excuse. We’ll probably never see her again. But is that really what I want? Is that really for the best for all of us? For Luke? For Minnie?

Suze fixes the last hook in place. ‘There. Done.’ Then she adds, ‘Or you could always say Minnie was ill. I do that all the time if I want to get out of things. Ernie’s had whooping cough about five times, poor little love—’