‘I don’t know, am I?’ Olivia asked. She blinked hard, and it looked like her vision had suddenly cleared. ‘Ignore me. I’m drunk.’

She was ready to stagger away, but Tara placed a hand gently on her arm. ‘Should we be worried about our friend?’

‘You should worry about anyone who tries to help him,’ she said. ‘Nick’s better at taking than he is at giving.’

‘How do you mean?’ asked April.

‘He told me he gave up his job because he was depressed and couldn’t work,’ she said, giving in to the pressure to confess. ‘I’ve just found out from one of the fundraisers that he was fired. She thought I knew.’

Olivia seemed to have finished, but Tara gave her the merest nod of encouragement. ‘What did he do?’ she asked gently.

Taking a deep breath, Olivia said, ‘When Erin died, Nick hadn’t been with this new investment bank for long so his colleagues didn’t know their history.’ She paused and looked over her shoulder. The other smokers had drifted back into the hotel, but nevertheless, she leant in close as if sharing the worst of secrets. ‘When Josh set up Erin’s memorial fund, Nick used it as a smokescreen to start his own little fundraiser. I imagine he had some pretty wealthy clients who didn’t realise he was out to line his own pocket.’

‘My god. Were the police involved?’ asked April.

‘Oh, no, it was all handled very quietly, so quietly even his own bloody sister didn’t know about it. My brother could get away with murder.’

‘Is it possible he never intended to take the proceeds?’

April admired Tara’s optimism, but Olivia’s sneer snuffed it out. ‘He’s never been what I would call responsible with his finances,’ she said. ‘Even in the days when he had more money than most of us would know how to spend, Nick somehow managed to get through it all. And, as I’ve found out to my cost, when he runs out of funds, he expects others to bankroll him.’

‘That includes you?’ asked April.

‘I was happy to take him in when he lost his job, but I don’t like being taken for a mug,’ Olivia said. ‘When he was ready to move out and lease a flat, he convinced me to be guarantor. He’d overstretched himself setting up his business – you know about that, right?’

‘Yes,’ April replied. ‘He says it’s going well.’

‘Not well enough to pay his bloody rent. There’s my savings gone while he, apparently, jets off on a holiday. I can always tell when he’s up to no good – he goes off the radar. I don’t imagine I’ll see that money again. Final demands have been appearing at the flat and it looks like he hasn’t kept up with the lease payments for his limos either.’