‘No, I don’t. Just you.’ He’d become serious again, and it charmed her, how easy it was to shock him into solemnity. Then he roused himself and said: ‘The night I picked you up from that party, and you tried to kiss me—’

‘God, don’t! Please. I was such a mess.’

‘No! Don’t you see, I wanted to kiss you!’

‘Really?’

‘Oh my God, yeah!’

When he’d gone home that night, he’d made love to his wife for the first time in months, and for the whole time he’d imagined it was Eva there in the bed beneath him, not Becca. Eva listened, astonished. Could it be true that he fantasized about her, Eva, instead of exotic, perfect Becca? And what did it mean that he hadn’t slept with his wife in months?

‘Things have been a bit stale in that department,’ he admitted to her now, seeing perhaps the look of enquiry on her face. ‘It’s natural, I suppose, after being with the same person for so long. And things sort of changed anyway – became a bit difficult – when we were trying for a baby and it didn’t work out. I always felt that Becca was disappointed in me after that. It’s my fault we can’t have kids, you see. People always wonder that, don’t they? Whose fault it is. One too many kicks in the balls during rugby training!’ He tried to make a joke out of it, but Eva could read the hurt that was clearly there behind the false levity. She stroked his head slowly, feelings of tenderness coming to the surface, as well as relief. He hadn’t used a condom and she had been too caught up in the moment to ask.

She kissed the top of his head and they stayed like that for a while, Eva thinking about how different it was this time than it had been when she’d slept with Callum. None of the feelings of shame and doubt adhered to her now as they had done then. Callum had been a mistake – a catastrophic error of judgement – whereas being with Ross felt fated, a wonderful conclusion she had been inevitably drawn to. She basked in this pleasurable feeling until Ross’s mobile vibrated with an incoming message and he said they’d better get moving. They drove home with all the windows open, the soft wind washing the air clean of any giveaway odours. He dropped her on a corner near Zion Hill, a ten-minute walk from home. They didn’t want to risk any neighbours spotting them.

‘What about you?’ she asked, and he explained he’d go to the gym for a workout and a shower.

‘But it’s almost midnight!’ she laughed.

He looked sheepish. ‘I can’t go home like this. Smelling of you.’