With her hands on her hips, Jennifer was about to launch a mouthful in reply, when Gloria, wrapped in her satin dressing gown, bowled into the room. ‘My flippin’ head. Whose idea was it to drink a bottle of champagne? That’s it. Never again.’ She stopped and tilted her head to the side. Seeing her son standing there with no top on and Jennifer still in her clothes from the night before, Gloria looked suspiciously at Mike. ‘Er, where’s Eric?’ she snapped.

Jennifer gave her a dismissive hand gesture. ‘Upstairs, I guess. I dunno. I crashed down ’ere, with ol’ misery guts.’

‘You what!’ Gloria shouted. ‘Where’s Zara? Mikey?’

Jennifer didn’t wait to get into a row. She snatched her bag and was out of the house, leaving Gloria with a face that could strip paint. ‘What the hell’s going on, Mikey? Please, tell me you didn’t . . . ?’

Mike shook his head, certain he’d not got his leg over with Jennifer. ‘Not a chance. I fucking never would. Ya know that, Mum. But how the hell did she get left alone with me? Why is she even ’ere? Now, Zara’s gone. For fuck’s sake, Mum. If she came in and saw me and that tart, well . . . ’

‘That Jennifer came with Eric. I thought he was seeing her?’

Mike sat back heavily on the sofa, with his head in his hands. ‘Zara’s gone,’ he repeated, bitterly.

While Gloria headed to the kitchen to make the coffee, Mike reached for his new iPhone. He stared at the screen and wondered for a moment how to use the newfangled device. After playing around, he managed to get Zara’s number up and pressed the call button. He wouldn’t know what to say if the reason for her leaving was because of the tart on the sofa. The call went over to voicemail, so he tried again. This time, her phone didn’t even ring, it went straight to divert. He knew then she was ignoring him. In a split second, he hurled the device across the room, just missing Gloria, who was holding a tray of coffee and biscuits.

‘She’s not answering me. That bloody Jennifer! What the fuck was all that about? Why didn’t someone get her a cab home?’

Gloria placed the tray on the coffee table and settled herself in the armchair opposite. ‘I thought she was Eric’s girlfriend. She was sitting with Eric when I went to bed.’

‘So where’s Eric now?’

Gloria sipped her coffee and winced. ‘Shit, that’s vile. Er, I dunno, Son. He ain’t in his room. Look, don’t panic about Zara. Eric may have taken her back to the house to pick up a few bits and pieces.’

‘What, now? Why would Eric do that? Why wouldn’t she ask me?’