‘You are,’ Harry says shortly. ‘You married Emily, didn’t you? Crazy bitch.’

‘Hey,’ Rupert says, a spark of anger flaring, ‘don’t speak about her like that.’

‘So, you did marry Emily Beaumont then?’ Harry forces his eyes up to Rupert’s face, and Rupert can’t fail to notice that his hands shake slightly as he pulls out the chair and sits down.

‘No, I didn’t,’ Rupert says, ‘I married a girl called Emily Belrose. I’ve seen her birth certificate, her passport. That’s definitely her name.’

Harry fumbles in his pocket and brings out an older generation iPhone. He flicks at the screen before turning it to Rupert. ‘Emily. See?’ Rupert peers at the screen, swallowing as he sees a photo of Emily, his Emily, smiling back at him. It’s a photo he’s never seen before, but it’s her all the same. Emily as she looked before all the trouble started.

‘Look, Rupert, I know it’s difficult, but I came here to warn you.’

‘What do you mean warn me?’

‘About what she’s really like.’ Henry – Harry – sits back as the waitress brings him over a foamy cappuccino. ‘I bet she’s all sweetness and light, isn’t she? It won’t last like that, though. Before long she’ll show you what she’s really like. I was married before Emily came along. Happily married, or so I thought. And then she wormed her way into our lives, and I lost everything.’

‘That’s not the way she tells it,’ Rupert says, thinking of the fear on Emily’s face as she told him what Harry had done to her.

‘Oh? Whatever her story is, let me tell you the truth.’ Harry drags a hand through his unruly hair before sipping at the coffee in front of him. A delaying tactic, Rupert thinks. ‘Emily and I worked together in IT. It sounds like a cliché, and it was I suppose. I was the boss, the director, and she was the new girl. Emily was – she was talented, enthusiastic, like a breath of fresh air. It was like she cast a spell on all of us, and yeah, I’m guilty of letting her get under my skin.’