Connie couldn’t meet his eye. She fussed with the cafetière, pouring coffee into Neil’s cup, then her own. ‘Yeah … It was fine.’ When she did look up, Neil was eyeing her.

‘Something up, Con?’

‘No. Well …’

‘Devan?’

She nodded quickly – easier by far to talk about her husband than the recent trip to Lake Como. ‘He’s still on about me retiring.’

‘Well, I suppose it’s not unreasonable –’

‘Neil! Whose side are you on?’

He laughed. ‘OK. It’s just you did say a while back that you wanted to travel.’

‘I am travelling. It’s what I do for a living, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

‘Yeah, but you said you and Devan wanted to go places together.’

Connie sighed. ‘I know I did.’ But the conversations Neil was referring to had been merely idle speculation, about trips she might like to take with Devan sometime in the future, Neil and Brooks being keen travellers. The trips, in her mind, were as well as, not instead of, her tour job. Now she looked at her friend entreatingly. ‘You think I should?’

Neil held up his hands. ‘I don’t think anything, Con. Just reminding you of what you said.’

They sat in silence.

‘It’s not just that. He’s not being very nice. He spends every minute of every day on his wretched phone. Even when he’s watching a match, he’s still got the bloody thing in his hand. I can’t have a proper conversation with him any more.’ She sipped her coffee. ‘I mean, what’s he doing on it?’

Neil was frowning. ‘Have you asked him?’

‘Of course I have. He says things like “Just the usual”, whatever that means.’

‘Hmm … You don’t think …’ He stared at her.

‘What?’ She spoke sharply, not herself this morning.

‘Well, porn springs to mind. Or gambling.’ He looked at her quizzically. ‘Or maybe he’s hooked up with someone.’

Connie practically choked on her coffee. ‘You think Devan’s having –’

Neil shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

Connie thought about it. ‘He wouldn’t do that,’ she said flatly, aware, uncomfortably, of the hypocrisy of her reaction.

Her friend grinned. ‘You look like you swallowed a spider.’

She didn’t reply as she trawled back through her husband’s behaviour over recent months. Could that be why he’s so distant with me? But it didn’t feel right.

‘I really don’t think it’s that,’ she said, after another silence. ‘He’d be more furtive … and, I dare say, a lot happier.’ She gave a sad laugh. ‘I just wonder if he still loves me, Neil,’ she said.

He snorted. ‘Oh, come on, Connie. That’s ridiculous. He adores you. You know he does. I didn’t mean to wind you up.’