“Yes,” declared Sarah. “For hours, Veronica. All night. While you went off to steal Eliza. Come on, you must remember.”

Comically, Veronica placed her finger on her face in an exaggerated thinking posture, eyes blinking ever more heavily, sleep flitting back and forth across her brow. But then suddenly, the memory came to her. The arrival of it was almost visible and Sarah shook her head in amazement that it had truly not been present before, that she really had forgotten. “I did,” said Veronica. “Shit, I did.”

“It’s fine,” breezed Sarah, lifting Veronica’s glass to her mouth and encouraging another sip. Veronica took one, studying Sarah through blurred eyes. “Of course you left me with a debilitating claustrophobia, and that’s why Eliza had to drive to get me. That’s why she’s dead. But I’m fine. Almost.”

“What?” mumbled Veronica.

“Nothing.”

“What?” Veronica was sinking fast now. Clearly confused, she was trying so hard to make sense of things, but her body wouldn’t cooperate, just as Sarah had so many times found that her own body wouldn’t cooperate. Sarah watched as slowly, Veronica gave way to it and allowed herself to lean back more fully into the sofa. The folds of the cushions wrapped themselves around her. Her eyes closed and stayed closed. She dropped her glass and it spilled onto her. “Whoops,” she half giggled, half cried.

“Let’s get you dry,” soothed Sarah.

Leaning forwards, she helped Veronica remove her top.

“I wonder if in another twenty years, you’ll remember what you’ve done to Amelia,” mused Sarah, spitefully.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Sarah lifted her phone. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what you have done to Amelia? What you’ve put in that ridiculous report? And why?”

Veronica was way past explanation now. But the moment had arrived anyway, and Veronica was powerless to resist it. She slumped, eyes half closed, mouth half smiling, body half dressed. Wearing only her bra and a skirt, a wine glass in her lap, she was the perfect picture of irresponsibility. Sarah didn’t even need words. She didn’t need confession. How easy it had turned out to be. One snap was all it would take. One snap, and a share on social media, or a message to a few parents. Not the ending of a career, not total decimation, but the finale of the façade, the end of perfection. Just a small act to balance the scales of justice. One snap was all it would take.

But into the silence, Veronica suddenly spoke. “I was so jealous,” she muttered. “You had everything I wanted.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You still do,” Veronica muttered again. “Have everything.”

“What?” Sarah kept the phone poised, ready.

Veronica’s eyes were firmly shut now, but she lifted her hand clumsily, flapping it around for her dropped glass. “Elderflower,” she slurred. “It’s always elderflower.”

“What?”

Sarah wasn’t sure she had heard properly and wanted Veronica to finish her sentence, but it was too late, Veronica was gone, finally overwhelmed by the sedatives. Elderflower? What was she talking about? Sarah lifted Veronica’s wet top and smelt it. There was a hint of perfume, but the liquid was definitely not wine. No wonder she hadn’t got drunk sooner. Immediately, Sarah felt fooled and indignant – manipulated by Veronica again. But it took only another moment for the truth to penetrate. Glancing to the almost finished sushi, she realised that all evening Veronica had stuck to the vegetable options, avoiding raw fish as well as alcohol. Either Veronica was pregnant, or trying to be. Yet this didn’t make sense to Sarah. It wouldn’t compute. Everything came easily to Veronica. It always had.