At six p.m. Laura texted Nate and lied that she was meeting Coopers and would therefore be back a little later than usual. She didn’t entirely know why she hadn’t told him the truth. Maybe it was because she didn’t want to say she was waiting for Harry.

At seven p.m. Harry and Miles eventually appeared. A faint smell of beer wafted towards her as the pair wandered into Harry’s office – Harry telling Laura he was sorry they were so late, and did she want to come in and see them now? His face was set even harder than it had been that morning.

Laura nodded. Bobby would be in bed by now, she thought as she gathered her notepad and a pen. Nate would already be annoyed with her.

She followed the men into Harry’s office. If Harry had been drinking, he hid it well. He riffled through papers on his desk, his hands moving deftly as he found what he was looking for. He didn’t look up when she walked in.

Miles, however, was leaning casually against the door frame, arms folded across his broad chest. His words had an edge to them when he spoke, tumbling out of his mouth in a slur. ‘Laura, good to see you again.’

She didn’t feel comfortable with the way he was looking at her, his deep-brown eyes holding such a steady gaze as he raised his eyebrows.

Laura gave him a thin smile and turned back to Harry. She wanted him to start talking so she could get out of there and go home.

Suddenly Harry’s mobile rang. ‘Odd,’ he muttered as he pulled it towards him across the desk. ‘Sorry, guys, I’m going to have to take this call. Anna’s a friend – she’s looking after the girls.’

He picked up the phone. ‘Excuse me a minute,’ he added as Miles gestured a hand as if to give his approval. ‘Hi, Anna, everything okay?’ Harry asked as he left the office, shutting the door behind him.

‘Take a seat, Laura,’ Miles said, indicating one of the armchairs as if it were his office and, despite this, Laura found herself feeling for the armchair and backing into it. Miles beamed at her as he perched on the edge of Harry’s desk in front of her, crossing his legs at the ankles and folding his hands in his lap. She could feel the edge of his trousers brushing against her bare calf and automatically shifted out of the way.

‘I can see why Harry has you working for him,’ he said. His eyebrows were pinched into a point again, his mouth skewed. The closer he leaned, the more she could smell the beer on his breath and she wished he wouldn’t sit so near.

‘Sorry?’

‘I mean, I’m sure you’d do a good job and all, but …’ He drifted off, grinning.