‘People are so friendly down there,’ Rob says. ‘Dropping by all the time. No one ever knocks on my door here in Shoreditch.’

Kate tiptoes into the room, stepping in far enough to be able to see the screen. Rob seems to be doing something else, eyes down. She forces herself to look away from his face, aware of his movements but not his expression. All she needs to do is focus on the background. It looks exactly as it did earlier, when he said he was calling from his flat.

She steels herself and walks over to the back of the sofa where Bex is sitting.

‘Hi, babe,’ she says, leaning over Bex’s shoulder. The laptop is on the table in front of them. She keeps her eyes firmly averted from both images of Rob’s face. She’s often talked to him in the past on FaceTime while she’s been doing something else – cooking, yoga, painting. It’s quite common for her not to be looking into the camera.

‘Who was at the door?’ he asks.

‘Oh, Mark from the gallery,’ she says breezily. ‘Asking if Stretch fancied a walk.’

She is aware of Rob smiling.

‘Did you lock the front door afterwards?’ he asks.

‘Of course,’ she says.

Bex nudges her, subtly pointing at something she’s just scribbled down on a piece of paper:

This is nuts! It’s definitely him. And he’s gorgeous.

Maybe it is nuts, but something’s still niggling her.

‘So are you guys just facetiming for a friendly chat or what?’ he asks.

‘Don’t you like our company?’ Bex says, leaning into the camera in her flirt mode. She’s still a bit drunk too.

‘You know I love it, Bex,’ Rob says. ‘It’s just that I’ve got someone on the other line and the small matter of a company to float…’

‘It’s fine,’ Kate interjects. He’s busy with work. He always is. ‘Just wanted to ask about the pool. The automatic vacuum’s stopped cleaning the bottom.’ It’s her turn to improvise now.

‘Leave it with me,’ he says.

The robotic vacuum that criss-crosses the bottom of the swimming pool all day ground to a halt earlier. It could have been worse. A few weeks back, the cover started to roll over the pool while she was swimming in it, coming up behind her. She got out just in time – it was terrifying. Rob played it down afterwards, said that the cover’s sensors would have detected a body in the water and stopped, but she hasn’t been in the pool since.

She takes a deep breath, telling herself that Rob’s in London, that she’s worrying unnecessarily. It’s no good.

‘Rob,’ she says. ‘I need to ask you something else.’

‘Sure,’ he says. ‘Fire away.’

‘About Mark,’ she begins, her voice shaking.

‘How was he?’

‘He’s good.’