Experiencing no surprise, and with unexpected calm, I turned and replaced the bottle carefully on the counter. ‘About Alison’s offer?’ I asked, without looking at him.

‘About Alison’s offer.’

‘Why now?’

‘Friends on hand for immediate, emotional support.’

I gazed at Nicky’s abandoned wine glass. ‘Considerate of you, but I don’t think I’ll be needing any.’

‘I meant for me.’

I looked up to find him smiling.

‘Well, I’m glad you’re managing to see a funny side to all this,’ I said, suddenly feeling distinctly less calm and deliberately keeping the pitch of my voice low to avoid any wobbles. ‘But it’s my career under discussion and that’s never been a laughing matter for me.’

His smile fading, he opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment we were interrupted by a couple politely asking for directions to a fresh bottle of white. Cameron waited until I had pointed them towards the fridge and sourced a corkscrew, and then he touched my arm and gestured towards the darkened garden. ‘I know it’s cold, but could we step outside? Just for a couple of minutes.’

I closed my eyes and heaved a sigh. ‘OK, come on,’ I said wearily, walking to the bifold doors and sliding them open just enough for us to slip outside. ‘Let’s go over there.’ I closed the doors behind us and pointed to the edge of the patio. ‘I don’t fancy being seen or overheard.’

We made our way across the patio, stopping where it ended with a small step up to the lawn. I shivered as we came to a halt. ‘Fire away,’ I said, clenching my teeth against the cold.

He removed his jacket. ‘Here, have this.’

I was about to refuse the offer, before realising that, actually, I was both freezing and miserable, and it was all his fault. ‘Thanks,’ I said, taking the jacket from him and putting it on, its shoulders sagging and its sleeves extending well beyond my fingertips.

I watched with some satisfaction as he tensed against the cold and then placed his hands into his pockets and studied the ground thoughtfully. ‘Right,’ he said, after a moment, ‘well, with regard to Alison’s proposal, I do have a concern.’

‘I’d already worked out that much for myself,’ I muttered irritably, stamping my feet and looking towards the beckoning light and warmth of the kitchen. ‘What I don’t understand is why we couldn’t have discussed your professional concern in a professional manner, in a professional, centrally heated environment.’

‘My concern isn’t a professional one,’ he said, looking at me steadily. ‘It’s personal.’

‘What?’

‘It’s about our—’ he began, before being interrupted by a clattering against the fence behind me. He frowned and pointed over my right shoulder. ‘There’s a woman climbing…’