With a deep breath and closing her eyes, she pressed dial and brought the phone to her ear. It rang once, twice, three times . . .

‘Diga!’ His voice burst into her consciousness and he was so fully formed to her, it was like he was standing right in front of her. In the background she could hear music, voices, laughter. A woman laughing. Where was he? ‘. . . Hello?’

‘Nathan, it’s me.’

The silence that followed was like a gun crack. ‘. . . Charlotte. I didn’t expect to hear from you.’

Expect? Or want? His words hurt and she closed her eyes, pinching her temples as she swallowed hard. ‘Really? Why not?’

Another pause, but this time his voice – when he spoke – was harder. ‘I would have thought that was perfectly obvious.’

‘You didn’t let me explain—’

‘Because I didn’t want you to. It never should have happened.’

‘You don’t mean that,’ she said quietly but her voice was feeble, weak.

‘I’ve never meant anything more.’

Such simplicity. Such brutality. She felt winded by his words and she didn’t know how to reach him. He wasn’t the boy she’d once known. ‘I don’t regret what happened between us—’

‘There is no us.’

She faltered again. ‘Nathan, please . . .’

‘Yesterday was a mistake, Charlotte. This conversation is a mistake. Don’t call again—’

‘Wait!’ He couldn’t hang up on her.

‘What is it?’ She heard the frustration in his voice. The irritation that she was still there.

‘It’s not that simple . . . We still have to work together.’

He gave an astonished laugh but he didn’t sound amused. ‘You’re joking?’

‘No.’ She swallowed and tried to rally, to pull her voice into shape again. She might not pull off bored right now, but she could do professional. ‘I’m calling to see how your report’s coming on.’

‘There is no report!’

‘Really? Why not?’

There was a stunned silence. ‘Charlotte, we cannot work together. It’s impossible.’

‘Do you want to explain that to the client?’ she asked quietly.

He didn’t reply and she realized the background din had become muted. Had he moved away, into another room? Outside? She wandered over to the balcony and looked out over the still restless city as though she might just catch a glimpse of him. She wondered where exactly he was. A mile away? One block?

As the silence lengthened, she listened to the sound of his breathing, the pain between them twitching like a raw nerve.

‘Look, it doesn’t add up anyway. The entire thing is absurd,’ he said finally. It was a second before she realized he was talking about the client and not them – able to just click off from her, do what had to be done. ‘Even from just an initial read-through, it doesn’t ring true that he’s donating his estate to his mistress. If he was in his sixties or seventies even, it might be plausible, just, but two years off a century? I don’t think so.’