‘Very short, very chic.’ She might as well be complimenting her own hair, which is shorter than mine, darker and undeniably more chic. But I appreciate it. Claire is one of the good ones, partial to a buttery chardonnay and is always kind and free for a chat. We’d caught up for wine a few times when the boys were away. We’d joked about getting matching tattoos. WW. War wives. It was nice to have a confidante, someone I could talk to about what Cain did, other than the dismissive ‘he’s in the army.’ The canned response to most people who had asked, avoiding those follow-up questions. It’s an SAS thing. You’d think he was James Bond.

Axel comes over in his apron with Michelangelo’s David on the front. He’s not as tall as Cain but otherwise they could be twins. He and Cain’s hands clap together, palms thump backs.

Axel steps back now, gives me that grin that belongs on a salesman, or a politician. Dentist-white teeth, year-round tan. He’s not vain but he looks after himself, in designer jeans tight around his muscled thighs and a loose linen shirt. Hard to imagine him as an elite soldier nowadays.

‘You’re a fine wine, Lina. Better every year.’

‘Eventually wine turns rancid,’ I joke.

‘That’s true. You’re not there yet though. Speaking of which. Wine, beer?’ he says it like a question pointing at each of us.

‘Not for me,’ I say. ‘I got called in. Shift starts at eleven.’

‘You’re joking?’ Claire says now. ‘It’s been so long since we got drunk together.’

‘No,’ I say. ‘I wish I was joking but I’ve got to do it.’

‘Lina, why are you picking up extra shifts? You work too hard. Unlike this one,’ Axel teases Cain, gently jabbing his shoulder.

We’re broke, hardly the answer they want. Not technically true but COVID-19 hit us as hard as anyone. ‘Oh, I’m just trying to help out where I can.’

‘Can’t someone else do it?’

‘No, I owed a favour and already said yes. Too late to pull out now.’

‘Well, in that case do you want a glass of juice, or we’ve got ginger beer?’ Claire offers.

‘Oh no, I’m fine really,’ I say. I’ve tried so often to cut back on my drinking. Alcoholism is in my genes, it seems at times inevitable. It wasn’t until we began trying for a kid that I really got on top of it. And now I barely touch alcohol at all. The only people I seem to drink around are these two, Claire and Axel. Black belts in peer pressure, both of them.

‘So, we have a proposition,’ Claire begins. ‘How would you two feel about looking after Taj next weekend?’

Cain flicks a glance towards me then back to Claire. ‘Why?’