Evan is just standing there, doing nothing except waiting. He’s got changed out of his Vets 24 tunic and into jeans and a t-shirt, a jacket slung over his arm. He looks like he’s waiting for a bus.

‘Got the wrong room?’ Joe says to him.

‘Glad you’re still here,’ Evan says. He glances at Joe, an unreadable expression on his face.

‘Only just,’ Joe says tightly. ‘On my way out. Shall I just lock you in here for the night, or –’

‘I was thinking.’ Evan glances upwards, with all of the time and confidence of a man with the upper hand. He’s standing next to a poster about the appropriate weight for dogs, the royal-blue wall of Vets 24 behind him.

‘About what?’

‘About what you and Cathy told me.’

‘Right …’ Joe says, and he feels the words die on his lips, he really does.

He can see exactly where this is going. He’s not an idiot. Just when they think it can’t get any worse, it does, like a disease progressing relentlessly through a body. He stares impassively back at Evan.

Joe suddenly wonders if he could defend himself against Evan. Evan is shorter than him. Stockier, but it isn’t strength. Yeah, he could probably win a fight with him, he finds himself thinking, especially with the weight he’s put on. Jesus. Where is this coming from? ‘Look. What’s the situation here?’ he says to Evan.

‘I think this practice could benefit from some non-Plant input.’

‘Right.’

‘Right? New blood on the board.’

‘There’s no board,’ Joe says tightly. ‘It’s a partnership.’ He turns off the cat scales and screws the lid tight on the glass dog-treat jar, just for something to do.

‘Look,’ Evan says with a loud laugh, and all Joe is thinking is that he should have seen this coming. Evan is mercenary. Evan is an opportunist. Evan is broke. Joe winces as he thinks of it. How obvious it is.

Evan is acting completely in character, only Joe was expecting him not to. Why? He has been so foolish.

He turns away from Evan. It’s too painful to look at him right now. He concentrates on switching off his computer. Are you sure you want to quit? it says.

‘Well?’ Evan says.

‘You’re threatening me.’

Evan laughs again. ‘I mean – Joe. I’d be mad not to use this, wouldn’t I?’ he says. He’s genuinely asking, Joe thinks, looking at him in astonishment. Would he use it? No, he wouldn’t. He would try to fucking forget the knowledge he’d been given, if he were in Evan’s position, he thinks darkly.

‘I’ll let you think on it,’ Evan says. He reaches behind his back without turning around and opens Joe’s door, then walks across the dimly lit empty reception and out the front without looking back. ‘Am looking forward to quitting the second job that you never cared I had, though,’ he adds softly.

‘I did care,’ Joe shouts.

He forces himself to stop. He’s got to breathe, to let his heartbeat slow. He had a panic attack last night in bed, thinking of Paul waking up one morning without his mother if they fuck this up, if he fucks this up.