‘It’s just an old mate from school, Tommy,’ I told him. ‘We were just catching up.’

I put my hand on his shoulder by way of reassurance but he pushed me away without taking his gaze away from Pete’s face. I fell onto the bed.

‘I wasn’t talking to you. Come on, Army Boots, tell me what’s going on here.’

Pete was visibly shaking but managed a softly spoken reply: ‘It’s like Emily said. We were friends at school and we were just having a catch-up.’

Tommy placed his open hand on top of Pete’s head and started to massage his scalp.

‘I saw you having a catch-up in my flat and then I saw you follow her out. Did she invite you over here?’

‘Err… no. It just sort of happened. We’re old friends…’

‘So you came here uninvited, is that what you’re saying?’

I didn’t like where this was going and intervened again: ‘Listen, Tommy, I said he could come in. Nothing happened or was going to happen. We are just friends.’

Tommy took his hand off Pete’s head and gave his cheeks a quick pinch. He kept his finger pointed at Pete as he came and sat down on the bed next to me.

‘If you are such good mates,’ he said, ‘then tell me, Emily, when was the last time you spoke to each other? When did you last communicate to nurture and progress this great friendship?’

‘We haven’t spoken since school,’ I replied. ‘Look, what is your problem, Tommy? I’m telling you the truth. Nothing happened.’

‘Did you arrange this little cosy-up when you were in my flat? IN MY FUCKING FLAT!’

Pete interjected: ‘Listen, mate, we didn’t arrange anything. I just happened to leave at the same time as her and we bumped into each other. Nothing more to it. I’ll leave now. I don’t want any trouble.’

Pete took a few steps towards the door but was halted by Tommy.

‘No, why don’t you stay for a while? Maybe we can become good friends and then catch up again in two or three years and have a nice chat on a bed?’

‘Look, I don’t know what’s going on here,’ said Pete. ‘I think it’s best if I just go.’

‘You know what? I think you’re right. I’ll come along with you and we can have a catch-up on the street.’ As he pushed Pete out of the door, he turned and said, ‘You don’t work for me anymore. I hope it was worth it. You only have yourself to blame.’

They left and, of course, I feared for Pete’s safety, but instead of following them out I just lay back on the bed and wept into my pillow. I knew I would never see Pete again.