‘I poured you some more wine.’ Sadie comes back in carrying three glasses and a bottle on a tray, and Rupert thanks her even though he doesn’t want any more wine, the first sip feeling like acid as it burns its way down his throat. ‘You did so well today. Caro would have been proud.’

‘You did bloody well, mate.’ Miles slaps Rupert a little too firmly on the back in his attempts to sound like a regular bloke, instead of a trust-fund-supported, slightly-too-posh corporate lawyer. Which he is. ‘Cigar?’ He offers one out, a fat, juicy Cuban, and Rupert shakes his head. Where he comes from, a cigar is only for celebrations, not an everyday occurrence. ‘Mind if I…?’ Miles nods towards the door, still respecting Caro’s wishes about not smoking in the house, even though she isn’t here anymore.

‘Go ahead.’ Rupert watches him leave and when he turns back Sadie is stood beside him, so close he can feel the warmth of her breath on his face.

‘Rupert. Are you sure you’ll be OK on your own? It’s been a rough day.’ She cocks her head on one side, a sour tang of alcohol like a cloud around her. Her eyes are rimmed with red, her face pale. There is a faint smudge of mascara at the corner of her left eye, but her lipstick looks freshly applied.

‘Of course.’ He’s had a year without Caro beside him already. ‘I’ll be fine. You two should probably go. It’s been a long day, shouldn’t you be getting back to the twins?’ Blanche and Barclay – a fraternal nightmare, and Rupert and Caro’s godchildren. Rupert’s godchildren, now.

‘They’re fine. They’re with the nanny.’ She looks away, running a finger around the rim of her wine glass. ‘Rupert, if you need to talk, you can call me any time, you know that? You’ve shut us out since Caro’s been gone. You can talk to me about her – I won’t fall apart. She was my best friend, part of my life since I was eleven years old. We did everything together. I know what you’re going through. I know how it feels.’ Her words slur slightly, and Rupert realizes she’s a little drunk. She leans towards him, laying a hand on his arm, and he focuses on the gap between her two front teeth, the tiny mole that sits just above her top lip and prepares to push her away. ‘It’s been a rough year for all of us.’

‘I know. Thank you, Sadie. I promise I’ll call you if I need to talk. But you really should go now, it’s getting late.’ He places his hand on her shoulder, just firmly enough to make her start and pull away.