‘I know where you park,’ he says cheerfully. ‘I have this thing about matching cars to their owners. You’re the white Audi.’ He points to the car. ‘Very fancy.’

The faint flutter of irritation that has been simmering in Oli threatens to boil and spill over. She has no doubt her new car was the talk of the office for weeks, but Dean insisted she needed a decent car to help with the girls, and her old Mazda hardly seemed worth defending.

‘Do you come down here and spy on everyone?’ she asks.

Cooper reaches inside his jacket, then holds out an old-fashioned cigarette case, silver and engraved with an intricate floral pattern. He taps it conspiratorially. ‘I smoke. You notice lots of things when you smoke. Hear lots of conversations. James Gilchrist told me that, when I did work experience at Channel Seven. Gilly’s such a legend—I mean, you probably know him, right? Anyway, smoking has led me to discover many interesting things.’

After reaching the car they stand on either side, looking at each other over the roof.

‘You smoke?’ Oli says sceptically.

‘I know, I know,’ Cooper says guiltily. ‘I’m a traitor to my tribe, a rare breed of millennial. I don’t use Snapchat either. I like my digital footprint curated and permanent. I’m actually kind of old-fashioned,’ he adds earnestly. ‘I have no interest in getting a tattoo. And I’m not sold on Uber—their disregard for paying tax bothers me.’

‘Get in,’ Oli says curtly. ‘It’ll take us an hour to get there.’ She beeps the car open and slides onto the dark leather seat, surreptitiously shifting the rubbish from the door and shoving it under the seat.

Cooper hoists himself into the passenger seat. He sniffs deeply several times and turns to her, looking delighted. ‘You smoke too!’

‘Not when I’m on the clock.’ She starts the car.

He pulls on his seatbelt then gasps, his index finger pointed skyward as if to indicate a bright idea.

‘What is it?’

‘I forgot the camera!’ He swings the door open and runs back to the lift. ‘Don’t go without me!’ he cries as the doors swallow him up.

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR

OLI’S KNUCKLES ARE WHITE, CURLED LIKE CLAWS AROUND THE steering wheel. Cooper continues chatting away. In the fifteen minutes since they left the office, Oli has been treated to a blowby-blow account of his resumé, starting with the holiday job he had at the local video store when he was fifteen. Now he’s five minutes into a detailed review of the sleep-monitoring app he’s recently started using. The stop-start rhythm of the traffic is amplifying her tension, and as they slow for yet another red light she breathes out through pursed lips and inhales deeply through her nostrils.