‘I know you think something was going on with me and Tiff. And I realise I didn’t allay your fears, or dampen your suspicions, whatever, the other day in the kitchen when I started to talk about her. I was trying too hard to explain myself, and all I did was make it sound like you really did have something to be suspicious of.’

‘And there wasn’t, then? I mean, nothing at all to warrant me feeling as though something was wrong?’

He pursed his lips; closed his eyes. ‘There was a moment,’ he said, breathing in deeply. ‘A very brief one. Fleeting.’

Louisa swallowed, her throat dry in anticipation of what he was about to admit to. ‘Go on.’

‘It was when you were carrying Noah, about six months in. Tiff put something on Facebook, a “call-out” if you like. Needed help with putting up shelves. I simply liked her post, then, when there were no offers forthcoming, commented to say I was free to give her a hand.’

Louisa recalled that day. Him telling her that he was popping up to Tiff’s to help with a bit of DIY, then he said he’d be partaking in a swift half at the pub on the way back down the road. He’d said he wanted to catch up with some of the lads he hadn’t seen in a while, and they’d texted that they were going to be watching the football on the big screen there. Louisa also remembered how Brian hadn’t returned until almost midnight that night. Now she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the rest of this story. What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. At least, in some situations. It had certainly been the case with what she’d done. How could she tell Brian now?

Her silence gave Brian the go-ahead to continue his story. The one where he was about to tell her he’d betrayed her by shagging her best friend. She couldn’t believe she felt bad for mistrusting Tiff now. It seemed she’d been bloody right to do so.

‘She was really grateful, said it was hard being on her own when things like that needed doing. She felt awkward asking her male friends to help out in case it looked dodgy to their wives.’

‘Hah! She always did think highly of herself.’

‘Don’t, Lou. You don’t mean that.’ He rubbed his hand up and down her bare arm. ‘She wasn’t like that, and you know it.’

‘Then what? What the fuck are you trying to tell me?’

‘Shhh, calm down, you’ll wake Emily.’

‘I’m just not sure where this “chat” is going, Brian,’ she whispered.

‘I know.’ He pushed himself up and sat cross-legged in front of her. She did the same. ‘I’m making a hash of this.’

‘You need to spit it out, whatever it is, say it. Please.’