Pip had become parted from him already and was chatting animatedly to some leggy blond who looked as if her daddy would be Well To Do. A waiter squeezed his way past and Jake whipped off a glass of champagne as he did so. As expected, rather than dancing on the tongue, it was as warm and palatable as his sweat and horribly flat. Jake let the crowd push him farther into the gallery. The exhibition on display—if that was the correct art world terminology—was a series of black-and-white photographs by someone he’d never heard of but who Pip assured him was ‘the next big thing’. Pip always knew about ‘the next big thing’ whereas Jake never knew what ‘the next big thing’ was until everyone else did and then it wasn’t a ‘big thing’ anymore.

Jake shuffled himself towards the wall, grabbing at a congealed miniature pizza as it sailed past on a silver tray. Not that he was any judge, but the photographs didn’t look half bad to him. The price tags, which seemed to start at around £3,000, were less impressive. Perhaps he should polish up his old Canon. While he had nothing else to do, Jake studied the images—sharp collections of faces in close-up, mainly minor celebrities’ eyelashes. That sort of stuff. They would have looked absolutely at home in Neve’s apartment.

The crowd parted briefly and there she was, standing in front of him—like an apparition, as if conjured up by his thoughts. Jake spluttered out his champagne. Possibly not the impression he’d hoped to convey. Neve was standing there with a classically handsome man, a city-type in brown brogues whom he could imagine driving a Porsche. He did a quick scan. No Alec in sight.

‘Well…’ Jake said.

‘Hi.’ Neve smiled tightly.

‘Boyfriend at home with his wife?’

Her companion’s face darkened. ‘Is this a friend of yours?’

Jake extended his hand. ‘I’m the father of her unborn child,’ he said politely. ‘Possibly. Or possibly not. There are, apparently, a number of candidates. Are you one of them?’

Jake gave a forced laugh. His hand remained unshook, so he let it drop to his side.

‘Have you any idea what he’s talking about?’ the man said.

‘Yes, she does,’ Jake informed him.

‘If you really want to know…’ Neve said, tension etched on her face. ‘It was yours. I had its DNA checked before they flushed it.’

Jake felt the ground go soft beneath his feet.

Neve’s eyes hardened. ‘And it was a girl.’ She sipped at her champagne. ‘Happy now?’

‘You bitch,’ Jake managed to say even though his breath felt ragged.

‘You’re obviously more of a man than you thought,’ she said.

‘Darling,’ the suit said. ‘Is he bothering you?’

‘Not anymore,’ Neve said coolly and turned her back on him.