Oh shit, he had seen me. And I didn’t need a mirror to know there was a rather full-on flush rising up my face. Paul Frost was a detective from Gore and I’d had a fair amount to do with him in my Mataura days – with work, that was, not in any romantic sense. Paul was your consummate ladies’ man. He looked a more rugged and, dare I say, sexier version of Ben Affleck, and he knew it. All his female work colleagues seemed to fall for his charms and had made fools of themselves vying for his attentions, but not me. He’d tried it on a couple of times, but didn’t seem to get the hint. I wasn’t interested. I didn’t do egos.

‘Maggie, lovely to see you as always. I gather you’re still leading your friend astray. Can’t believe she fell for that trick again, you must love being around someone so gullible.’

‘Easy target, keeps me amused,’ Maggie said, her face as pink as mine felt. She’d never admit it, but she was a sucker for his spell too. ‘Anyway, I’ll leave you two alone to catch up, I’m sure you’ve got lots to talk about.’ She raised her eyebrows at me as she spoke, with one of those knowing expressions on her face, then the traitorous cow disappeared into the crowd.

‘Can I get you another drink?’ Paul asked, indicating towards the bar.

I wasn’t one to turn down a free beverage. ‘God, yes. Please. I think I deserve one after my public humiliation.’

‘After that performance, I think the whole bar deserves one.’

I thumped him one on the arm, for being so bloody rude.

‘Ow, hey now, be nice. I’m the one shouting the drink, remember,’ he said, rubbing his arm with great exaggeration. ‘Before you assaulted me, I was going to tell you how good it was to see you, and that you looked particularly lovely tonight, but I think I’ve changed my mind now. I’d forgotten about your violent streak.’

‘Keep up the rude comments and I’ll show you just how violent.’ Lovely, my arse.

‘Promises, promises,’ he said. ‘Now you’re just teasing me.’

Trust Paul to twist things around.

‘Don’t flatter yourself, sunshine,’ I shot back. I’d forgotten how annoying he could be, I thought, as I watched him head to the bar to get our drinks. Fortunately there wasn’t much of wait.

‘So what tears you away from the den of iniquity that is Gore to the big-city lights of Dunedin?’ I asked. I’d hardly call the Trough and Porker big city lights, but it would do in a crunch.

‘Court case,’ he said, as he passed me my beer and moved towards a table. I popped my drink on the top of the leaner while I clambered up onto the barstool, never an elegant process.

‘Anything exciting?’