She took another sip of the whisky. He had not understood. She was trying to make it right. ‘I can’t be seen with you. I… love someone else.’ This was not true. With a wrenching pull of sadness, she knew she didn’t love Arthur. This morning she’d thought the only way out of this disaster was to return to him. Now she was here, in Jack’s presence, it was falling apart.

Jack’s smile was twisted in bitter amusement. He lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘But you’re happy to be with me when no one else is looking? You said this to Arthur too?’

She leaned back from him. ‘No! And what about you? I don’t even know if you mean anything you say. I don’t know anything about you. I’m sorry about what I said but this still has to stop, Jack. It’s wrong.’ Even as she said it, she didn’t believe herself. Oh, what a hideous mess she had created.

He was looking at her as if weighing something up. He leaned in again, close enough for her to see the specks of gold in his irises. ‘I don’t think this is wrong, Vee. Maybe, those other people, maybe they were wrong. Maybe we’ve both made mistakes. But this? It doesn’t feel wrong to me. It feels right.’ His hand came over and covered hers. She noticed how the freckles were sprayed over them like glitter. ‘Listen. I’m not going anywhere – no flying tonight. Come with me—’

‘Shouldn’t we dance?’ she said, standing up quickly, still with his hand in hers.

‘Yeah, sure.’ He put his arm around her waist and pulled her to the floor.

The next few minutes were a blur of feet and arms, Jack’s face close to hers, holding her gaze. Together and out. Together again. His left hand gripped hers and his other was on her waist, a burning imprint through her dress onto her skin. She should pull away, release herself, but she couldn’t do it. The beat of the music, pounding in her ears and in her stomach. All the time his grip on her never faltered.