He surreptitiously signals to the barman for another and raises his eyebrows at me in question.

‘No, thanks,’ I say. ‘Not for me.’

‘Something else then?’ asks Jacob.

I look at my watch, though I don’t know why. I have nowhere to go and nowhere to be, but being here doesn’t sit easy either. Not that I’m doing anything wrong – I’m just having a drink with a friend in need, but I already know I won’t be able to tell Leon about this, so perhaps I am?

‘I’ll have a gin and tonic,’ I say, without meaning to. Clearly my brain’s not telling my mouth the right thing to say.

‘How the hell could she have found out where I live?’ he muses, as we both watch the barman slice a sliver of cucumber into a fishbowl glass. ‘I couldn’t have been any more careful.’

I shudder as I remember the open door of my office this morning and Jacob’s missing file. I honestly can’t remember what information might be in there – would I have mentioned the apartment? Noted the moving date? Jotted down his new telephone number? Could I have handed such sensitive information to his estranged wife on a plate?

‘Is there any way she could have known you were seeing me?’ I ask, whilst keeping everything crossed that he shoots even the mere suggestion down in flames.

‘Absolutely not,’ he says, before sinking another whisky. ‘I quite literally went out of my way whenever I came to see you. And still checked behind me at every step.’

‘And there’s no way she could have found out from your old school where your new job was and followed you home from there?’

He shakes his head vehemently. ‘I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. I’ve treated this whole thing like a military operation because I was so terrified I was going to leave myself open . . . to this.’ He looks at me and I feel unnerved, troubled that he’s gone to such lengths, only for me and my security lapse to undo all his efforts.

‘I left home and my job on the same day,’ he goes on. ‘She wouldn’t have known it was coming, so wouldn’t have had a chance to track me.’

‘What about if someone from your new school recognizes you? It would only take an old colleague or friend from the past to have called her.’

He gives me a look that suggests I’m grasping at straws. He’s not wrong.

‘Can I get another?’ he says, signalling to the bartender.

‘I guess the issue is less about how she found you than what you’re going to do about it,’ I say, still nursing my gin and tonic.