Finally, Abby breaks the silence. ‘You know, it might actually be quite fun.’ She giggles. Sienna knows that she would never have agreed without the help of alcohol.

Beside her, Rob frowns. ‘But… really?’ He turns to Greg. ‘I think our wives might have just lost the plot.’

Sienna waits for Greg to agree with Rob, to put forward his objection, because there is little chance of him going for this. He remains silent for a moment, lifting his glass to his mouth and putting it straight back down again. He misses the side table and the glass crashes to the lawn, beer pooling across the grass. ‘Shit,’ Greg says, leaning down to retrieve his glass. ‘Better get another one.’

It crosses Sienna’s mind to follow him, to push him for an answer, because she fears that once he comes back the momentum of the conversation will be lost. They will move on to other topics, her idea trampled on and abandoned, and if anyone remembers it in the morning, then they’ll put it down to too much alcohol.

She takes a tentative step forward, to follow Greg, but thinks better of it. She can’t conjure up a good enough excuse to go after him, so instead she turns back to Abby and Rob, who are animatedly discussing the show they’ve been speaking of.

‘No, nobody cheated on anyone,’ Abby insists. ‘It really wasn’t like that. I think they used to put completely incompatible families together – to cause conflict. It’s all about the conflict, isn’t it?’

‘But I bet someone must have done. Behind the cameras,’ Rob says. ‘I’m sure the cameramen weren’t there all night.’

‘No, but I think they all had kids. Seriously, it was more about families.’ When Abby says this, her last word comes out as fam-leees, and Sienna starts laughing.

‘Well, luckily none of us have any kids living with us,’ she says.

Rob chuckles. Is he coming around to the idea? ‘Ah, but you could just google how to entertain kids, couldn’t you? You can learn how to do anything online.’

Sienna only half listens as they continue this discussion. All her focus is on watching the house, where through the bi-fold doors she can see Greg in the kitchen, pouring himself another drink. It’s hard to tell from this distance, but his head leans to the side, as if he’s balancing his phone on his shoulder.

When he finally wanders back to them, her eyes fix on him as he approaches, a dark silhouette against the warm golden glow of the kitchen lights. The bi-fold doors are still open, and she envisages the swarm of moths and other insects they’ll find once they head back inside.