Jamie looked up at Kirsty, who was leaning over the balcony. He felt exasperated, unable to believe this was really happening. It was crazy. Completely stupid. He tried to see through the Newtons’ open door, to see if Chris really was there. Half of him wanted Lucy to call the police. But really, he just wanted to get this whole, ridiculous mess sorted out.

He lowered his voice. ‘Look, Lucy, can’t we talk about this? We’re supposed to be friends, aren’t we? Let’s sit down and talk about it.’

‘No! I’m going to count to ten.’

‘Let me speak to Chris.’

She smiled with one half of her mouth, a horrible, lopsided expression that made her look unhinged. ‘Oh, you wouldn’t want to talk to Chris right now. Let me tell you. You really wouldn’t want to.’

‘I bet he’s not even in…’

‘Lucy,’ Kirsty called from above. ‘Why are you being like this?’

Lucy’s face had gone pink. Jamie thought she looked like she was about to burst something. ‘How do you expect me to react when you write me threatening, insulting letters?’

‘But it wasn’t threatening. We were trying to make peace. And you wrote to us first.’

Lucy shook her head violently. ‘No I didn’t.’

‘But Lucy, we’ve got the letter to prove it.’

Lucy threw her arms in the air and turned round, putting her hand on the door handle. In a calm, quiet voice, she said, ‘I really am going to call the police now.’ As she went inside, Lennon ran out of her flat and bounded up the garden. Jamie looked up at Kirsty as if to say, Did you see that?

Kirsty said, ‘Jamie, come on, get back up here.’

He walked up the stairs slowly, defeated. The moment he got back inside and Kirsty shut the door, he started to shake. Kirsty put her arm around his shoulders, pulling his body against hers. ‘I’ll get you a drink.’

He sat on the sofa and Kirsty handed him a beer. He drank it without tasting it. All his life he had tried to avoid conflict – shying away from arguments, never going near a fight – and the scene with Lucy left him feeling shocked and numb. He could hardly believe it had happened to him. She had been so aggressive and irrational. When confronted with something as crazy as this, he didn’t know how to react. It left him floundering.

‘She’s mental,’ he said, looking up at Kirsty.

She sat beside him.

‘Completely mental.’

Kirsty kissed him just above the cheekbone. ‘I was kind of proud of you, though.’

‘Why? What do you mean?’

‘I don’t know. Seeing you stand up for us. I know you want a quiet life, and I thought you’d always shy away from confrontation. It was actually quite nice to see you get passionate about something – to get angry.’