‘Rachel!’ cried Amber, as I tentatively pushed my way into the kitchen. She rushed over to me, enveloped me in a fug of smells – perfume, alcohol, tobacco. She felt off duty – for all my fantasies about us being best friends, it made me prickle with unease. I banished the sensation, doubled down on its opposite, leaning my body into hers. I was starving, ravenous for comfort. It’s funny how our addictions shape-shift, leave us just as craven but for a different kind of drug.

I could sense Arthur even when I couldn’t see him – right now he was sitting at the table, deep in conversation with Joanna. Sometimes I felt like he didn’t look at me on purpose, let the tension build up before allowing it to break at a time of his choosing. I gripped the top of one of the hard wooden chairs, trying to conceal how shaky my limbs felt.

‘Welcome, bella!’ said Marco. ‘Come and sit with me.’ I gratefully sunk down into the seat next to him. ‘You okay?’ I nodded, not quite trusting myself to speak. ‘You did…’ He kissed his fingers, grinned. ‘You are an amazing person; I have to tell you this.’

I couldn’t help but preen a bit.

‘Thanks, Marco.’ It was me who enveloped him this time: the chain of endless physical intimacy, meaningful and meaningless all at once, could not afford to be broken. Over his shoulder, coming into the room, I spotted Tim. The look on his face brought me up short, drained away the warm glow of congratulation that I’d been basking in. What was it I could see etched into his expression? Was it disapproval or something worse? He must have seen the flash of shame in my eyes, because he hastily rearranged his features and gave me a smile that didn’t catch light. My body was cold now: I felt as if I’d seen a ghost, and perhaps that ghost was me.

Amber tapped on a wine glass, breaking the moment. Once we were silent, she left a dramatic pause.

‘Well…’ she said eventually. ‘Today was…’ Was she choking up? ‘You were there, guys, you don’t need me to tell you. You were like, like… a firework display!’ She was flushed, her hands whirling, eyes alight. ‘You shot up into the universe, transcended every fucking thing that you’ve been put through and claimed your new lives. And I…’ She put a hand on her heart, thin fingers splayed across the pale flesh that was left exposed by the low scoop of her black dress. I looked at Arthur unconsciously – he wasn’t looking at her, his eyes were instead trained on me. ‘I am so honoured to have played a small part in each of your liberations. Let’s drink to that!’

As the table erupted into a noisy toast, Marco leapt to his feet.