‘Merrin, you know I would, in a heartbeat; wouldn’t even stop to pack,’ Bella joked. ‘I mean, literally the first this baby boy and my mother would know I was missing was when they ran out of milk and needed the TV turning on, as I’m the only one who can work the remote. Anyway, I gotta go. Love you, and please, please, leave the cupboard!’

‘I will, love you too.’

It was amazing how much better she felt after just one chat with her friend. Sitting up, she tucked her hair behind her ears and took a deep breath, trying to steady her pulse. Bella was right, she had to go outside, plus the Mortimers would no doubt be ensconced in their adjoining rooms and the chances of her running into Digby were slim. Her limbs trembled and she did her best to get the shakes under control. She felt torn, desperately keen to avoid him and yet also knowing this might be her only chance to tell him just how much he had destroyed for her.

After a few more seconds of sitting on the laundry bag with her feet on the cold floor, she slipped her pumps back on and stood up, straightening the waistband on her trousers and retying her cravat. She tucked her hair behind her ears again, wiped her top lip, opened the door with a flourish, and with her head down, walked into the corridor and slap bang into Digby.

‘Oh! Oh, shit!’

She never swore at work and looked over her shoulder, partly to check that her boss wasn’t around or that Mrs Lovely Mortimer wasn’t bringing up the rear with her gorgeous boys, before practically jumping out of Digby’s path and standing as flat as she could against the cupboard door, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. Her stomach lurched and she feared she might be sick, as was her MO. She felt a fine film of sweat break out over her skin and her thoughts were scrambled.

‘Merrin!’ He placed his hand on his chest.

‘Well, that’s going to be awkward, I’m Merrin too.’ She hadn’t meant to let the nostalgia float from her lips, didn’t want him to feel a moment of warmth or joy or comfort in her presence. But there they were.

They stared at each other for what felt like an age. His face and all the promises he had made still with the power to lure her. It was confusing because she hated him. His smile lifted one corner of his mouth, but his eyes looked downcast, sad even. And in truth she was glad to see some semblance of regret; it was all she had ever really wanted, to know that he was sorry, that there had been more reason behind his actions than the promise of a credit card.