‘My husband likes you. My husband. Likes you. A lot. I’d always sort of half known, but left it alone. Then in France – when yes, you really, really pissed me off, and he grabbed the chance for that tête-à-tête with you afterwards – I saw the two of you from the window. It was obvious how he was loving every minute…’ she took a sharp breath, batting away Esther’s hand as it attempted to hold one of hers ‘…so much so that he steps in, Mr Gallant, to drive you to the bloody airport despite my having said I would shift my client to do it… so…’ she paused to breathe again, and Esther found herself too transfixed, too appalled, to interrupt ‘…so I got him to admit it…the extent of it. I used my skills.’ She flashed a look at Esther that was as much about triumph as pain.

‘You idiot.’

‘Really? Well, thank you, Esther.’

‘I would never do anything with Brian,’ she said in a flat voice.

‘Fine. And he has said the same. But that doesn’t stop it being there.’

‘Viv, this is utter nonsense.’

‘You cannot undo words, Esther, or feelings. He doesn’t want you to know, and he doesn’t want to see you. It’s a mess. The worst we have ever known. My God, if he knew I’d even told you he would be furious, and rightly so, because I have broken my word… my word. You’re just so bloody good-looking, Esther, and nice, and yet never quite seem to grasp it, or enjoy it, going on about things like not being the weight you want, totally failing to notice that men trip over themselves because of staring so hard as you walk by. Not to mention women, but I’m not even going to go there.’

‘Good, because every word is insane.’

Viv was close to tears and Esther again tried to touch her, only to be shaken off.

‘It is not insane, it is true. And I blame Lucas, frankly, for somehow keeping your self-esteem so under wraps – so caught up in his massive ego – that you’ve not a clue about your own worth… until now… yes…’ she nodded ‘…maybe now you are starting to get it. But I cannot have you near my husband,’ she went on softly, brushing away a stray tear. ‘He doesn’t want it, and I don’t either.’