‘Go for a long run.’ He shrugged. ‘Walk the dogs. Nothing quite so creative.’

‘It was actually a rhetorical question,’ Audrey said, her eyes alight with mischief.

‘Oh.’ Hannah felt herself blush. Noah remained quiet beside her.

‘Our London bride didn’t go running or make up recipes,’ Audrey continued. ‘Instead, she went looking for company. And she found it in the arms of one of the fishermen who launched his boat from the jetty. An H. Medlin – I want to confirm his full name while I’m in Cornwall. The two of them had a passionate tryst, and unfortunately Edward found out.’

‘Oh God,’ Hannah said. ‘Really?’

‘What happened next?’ Noah asked. His gaze was intent, his fingers pressed to his chin.

‘He was furious, of course. But instead of exacting revenge on the fisherman – as would have been expected; blaming the cuckoo in the nest, rather than his dearly beloved – he took it out on her. She was, I’m afraid, discovered on the beach at low tide, pummelled rather severely by the sea.’

‘Fucking hell,’ Noah whispered.

‘That’s awful.’ Hannah had been musing on the similarities between Anna and Hannah, and how Noah had connections with the fishing trade, but she suddenly felt less inclined to draw parallels.

‘It’s certainly a tragedy,’ Audrey said.

‘But how did they—’ Noah started, but was interrupted by his phone buzzing loudly on the metal tabletop. Hannah glanced at it and saw a photo of Noah and a beautiful, dark-haired woman, their faces pressed close together as they smiled at the camera, the sea just visible behind them. Beth, the screen announced.

‘Sorry.’ Noah snatched up the phone and stood. ‘Hey, babe—’ He paused, taking a breath. ‘Beth. What is it?’ He walked over to an empty corner of the room.

Hannah felt a hand on her arm and turned back to the table, where Audrey was looking at her with kind eyes. ‘I’ll wait for him to come back,’ she said. ‘Fancy something a little stronger?’ She gestured towards Hannah’s empty mug.

Hannah nodded, unable to speak through her mortification. She had been openly staring at Noah, her mind processing the cosy selfie, the babe, the Beth. Of course Noah had a girlfriend: of course he did. How could a man like that possibly be single? She watched the broad line of his shoulders, the hair curling at his nape. Longing and envy curdled with the hot chocolate inside her.

‘A night for brandy, I think.’ Audrey placed three glasses on the table, the amber liquid glinting in the lamplight.

‘Thank you.’ Hannah took a grateful sip, letting the silence stretch between them, and a moment later Noah returned to the table.

‘Everything OK?’ Audrey asked. She gestured to the glass. ‘This is for you.’

‘Thanks,’ he said, sounding surprised. ‘And everything’s fine – sorry I interrupted the story.’ When Hannah caught his eye, he gave her a warm smile. Had Beth been saying goodnight, whispering sweet nothings into his ear? She turned her head away, her embarrassment deepening.