Johnnie went to one of the sofas and, without looking at me, slumped down onto it before pulling out his phone.

He clearly didn’t want to talk. That was fine. I was here to work. I put my earpiece in.

‘OK, I’m in.’

I opened my bag and took out the three fidget spinners. I popped the circular piece out of each side of each spinner. Nine little listening devices were now in the palm of my hand.

‘G, I am positioning the bugs now.’ Using the extra-strong adhesive that was inside the Ella’s Kitchen smoothie pouch, I stuck them round the room – behind questionable paintings and underneath every armchair and sofa. The final two were stuck underneath a couple of the chairs round the wooden dining table opposite the door.

Geraint crackled into my ear. ‘Looking at the blueprints, the best place to position the receiving device is inside the air vent.’

Each of the listening devices transmitted over Bluetooth back to the receiver, which would then record everything. Jake and Hattie would retrieve the listening devices and the receiver tomorrow, as soon as their maintenance visit was approved.

I looked up. There was one large vent directly above the dining table.

‘I see it. I’ll get it into position now.’

I emptied my bag onto the dining table. I looped the back of the Frozen camera onto the pink headband and put it on my head. I clicked a button and an extra-strength flashlight shone out of the camera lens.

I twisted the robot’s head off, exposing the top of an electric screwdriver. I turned to Johnnie. ‘This could get noisy.’

Johnnie pressed a few buttons on his phone and turned on the Sonos system.

Gorillaz blasted out the surround speakers.

I climbed up on the dining table and set to work on the vent. There were four different sets of screws. I carefully unscrewed each one, putting them in my pocket. When the last one came loose I lifted the vent cover off. It would’ve been helpful to be able to hand it down to Johnnie but he was still slumped on the sofa flicking through his iPhone, doing his best to pretend I didn’t exist.

If I’d known, all those years ago, how badly sleeping with him would turn out, I would’ve managed to resist.

I thought back to the tour we’d met on, the two of us in a bar at 3 a.m, the hot, much younger, rockstar staring at me as he took a slow drag of his cigarette.

OK, maybe not.

I thought about the sex. The hours spent in hotel rooms all over the world. The occasional broken bed. And that time he did that thing with the . . .

OK, definitely not.

But I would’ve thought twice about it.