Rupert lets her go without an argument, almost relieved to see her leave. It was bad enough when Caro’s parents contacted him a few weeks ago, around the time of Caro’s anniversary, without having Sadie in his office, dredging up more painful memories. He can’t spend any more time today thinking about Caro, or Emily. A worm of guilt squirms in his stomach. He lied to Sadie, when he said he couldn’t remember what he and Caro argued about – of course he can remember. It would be impossible for him to forget. He pushes the thought away and tries to focus on the spreadsheet in front of him. He is about to ring through to his secretary to ask her if she’ll make him a coffee when his mobile buzzes on the desk next to him. It’s another message request on his Facebook account.

Rupert, please meet me at Paulo’s coffee house this afternoon. It’s about Emily. If you’ll just meet me then I’ll explain everything. Henry Carpenter.

At four o’clock Rupert finds himself waiting anxiously in Paulo’s for Henry Carpenter to show up. On receiving the message his instinct had been to ignore it or refuse to come but then he remembers his promise to himself, that he would meet Henry if he contacted him again. Despite his reluctance to get involved, he needs to set this guy straight – and if he is the guy that Emily has been running from, then he needs to protect her and see him off once and for all.

Now, he fiddles with his empty sugar packet as he waits for him, half expecting him to not turn up. He’ll listen to Henry, he decides, he’ll warn him off and then he’ll go home to Emily, make sure he’s back in time for dinner like she wanted. They’ll talk, and get things sorted out, and everything can go back to normal. It can be like it was at the cottage for the weekend. Maybe he’ll book something else, something a little more fancy to take Emily’s mind off it all.

He looks up as the ping of the bell above the door tells him someone has just walked in. A tall, slightly dishevelled man enters, looking around the dimly lit café until his gaze lands on Rupert. He starts to make his way over and Rupert feels his pulse increase. This must be him.

‘Rupert?’ The man stands in front of him, his dark hair falling over one eye, a hand outstretched to shake. ‘I’m Henry Carpenter. You can call me Harry.’

Harry. Rupert’s stomach swoops as he shakes Harry’s surprisingly firm handshake, and Rupert gestures for him to sit down. ‘Harry. I’m not sure I’m the person you think I am…’ Rupert starts to say, even though now he thinks maybe he is.