Hannah didn’t recall much past that point. She knew she had shouted at him, not just about the whole flower trickery game he was playing, but also about the beach and how he was an irresponsible dog owner, that it was his fault she had twisted her ankle, which was now losing her income. And she was fairly certain the call had ended with her disconnecting when he tried to reason with her. That might explain why he was now standing in her living room, hands on hips and a scowl on his face.

Okay, scowl might be pushing it, but he didn’t look happy to see her, even if he was the one who had come to her.

‘You look like shit.’

‘Pardon me?’ Apparently, he was full of compliments too.

He glanced at the sofa and the creased cushions, then at the bottle lying on the floor.

‘Have you even been to bed?’

Hannah ran a self-conscious hand over her hair as he looked back at her. ‘That’s actually none of your business.’

‘It is when you call me up and start ranting at me at gone 11 p.m.’

Colour heated her cheeks. Now sober and in the cold light of day, she could see that she had been jumping to conclusions.

She had briefly googled him last night before calling, saw that as well as writing true crime, he was a successful fiction author. Would he really resort to playing mind games?

While she was beginning to regret what she had done, she couldn’t muster the energy to explain her actions. Right now, checking on Rosie was more important, and she grabbed her phone from where it was poking out between the sofa cushions, apprehension knotting her stomach when she saw that Rosie still hadn’t made contact. Hannah’s WhatsApp messages had been read, but there was no response to them or the voicemails, and a quick check of Snapchat showed that Rosie’s locator was switched off.

Ignoring Liam, she tried calling her friend again, dismayed when it continued to go to voicemail.

‘Do you seriously have nothing to say?’ he asked, as she ended the call.

Christ, would he just drop it? Her head was pounding and her mouth too dry. She just wanted him to go so she could drink a gallon of water, feed her empty belly, and crawl into bed while she waited for Rosie to make contact.

‘Look, about last night. Maybe I was a little quick to accuse you, but you can surely understand why I did?’

‘Is that supposed to be an apology?’

‘Will you leave if it is?’

Her answer seemed to both frustrate and amuse him as he studied her and Hannah squirmed a little, aware she hadn’t even looked in a mirror yet, so had no idea how rough she looked after her night on the sofa.