Not to mention that she had spent ten days now feeling increasingly ashamed about the way she had interrogated Ben, recalling snatches of that day: pointing an accusatory finger at him; flouncing off into the corner of the attic; then calling him out for the way he’d played it hot and cold with Alexa. On Sunday evening, miserable at the thought of the impending week ahead, she’d started obsessing about the box of her urine, and had had to order a pizza and a side of potato wedges in order to forget about it. She had made the mistake of setting the scene for Kayleigh, who teased her mercilessly.

And yet, after all that, Ellen did also want an explanation. Of course she did: it was a mystery that had lurked in the background for a decade. Plus, she knew it would make Alexa feel better, which seemed the most important of all. And maybe it would make her feel better too, and she’d stop descending into hungover shame spirals in which she relived the whole day in vivid detail.

Not to mention, they were moving back to Rokeby Close soon. Harmony needed to be restored. Elias had responded to Alexa’s curt email with a characteristically emphatic message.

From: elias@southeast_homes.com

To: [email protected]

CC: [email protected]; [email protected]

Subject: HI ALEXANDRA

The carpets are CLEANED NOW AND DRYING OUT and the PIPES are SORTED BY MY PLUMBER so you can MOVE BACK INTO 48 ROKEBY CLOSE please INFORM ME the date that you will go back there.

I will meet you all at the house TO GO THROUGH SOME GROUNDRULES.

Elias

Noting that Elias had got their address wrong, the housemates agreed they would all move back in this Saturday. The thought of seeing Elias was making Ellen feel sweaty and unprepared.

Ellen took a huge gulp of wine, the acid warmth filling her throat. She took another – no one needed to know it had been a large glass to begin with – and busied herself playing with a cardboard beer mat, folding it until its surface broke, and then tearing it into small pieces and piling it on the table in front of her, while half watching the door, waiting for the others to appear.

Yet still she jumped when Jack appeared. Recovering, she sat up straight and pushed the bits of beer mat to the side of the table. He glanced around, looking a little lost, until he saw her, gave a trade-mark half-wave and sidled up to the table where she sat.

‘Hello,’ he said, clearing his throat at the same time. He stood at the side of the table, arms by his side, as if he was unsure what to do with them.