I stared at her hand, resting on mine, and marvelled with dark fascination at the way in which she’d inadvertently managed to sum up my life in just a few, incredibly depressing, facts. Even in the immediate wake of Jason’s betrayal and departure, I was pretty sure things hadn’t felt this bad. At least then I’d had a sense of relief that I was escaping a deeply dysfunctional relationship. That, combined with the comfort and distraction of a career which I loved, meant that I had never entirely lost my sense of optimism. But right now, as I sat opposite Ruby and she gazed pityingly across the table at me, I realised that I couldn’t envisage any escape from my current miserable situation any time soon, and that I had absolutely no sense of optimism whatsoever.

‘Sometimes, I think I shouldn’t have told you about Cameron,’ she said guiltily. ‘I keep asking myself whether I did it to protect you or to make myself feel better. I like to think I wanted to stop you finding yourself in the same situation as me, but I can’t deny that it felt good to get it off my chest.’

I took a deep breath and attempted to pull myself together. ‘Don’t be silly, I’m grateful to you.’

‘Really?’ She sounded doubtful.

‘Really,’ I insisted. ‘Ignorance isn’t bliss with men like Cameron. And as for your leaving drinks, I understand your reasons and I can always take my bitterness to the other end of the table until he’s gone. I’ll sit next to Roger and let him explain to me, again, the difference between boules and bowls. That’ll keep me out of trouble for half an hour at least.’

‘Thanks, Edie,’ she said quietly, sounding suddenly emotional.

I smiled. ‘No problem, Ruby.’

We looked at each other for a moment and then she cleared her throat. ‘Well, Roger will be over the moon to have your ear tonight and, as for Cameron, you’re absolutely right,’ she said briskly, stabbing a piece of chicken aggressively with her fork and raising it to her lips, ‘you don’t have to go anywhere near him.’

Chapter 7

‘So there it is, Edie, the difference between rugby union and rugby league is as much a matter of class divide as it is of mauls and play-the-ball restarts,’ said Roger, concluding his detailed account of the respective origins and rules of the two games and reaching for his beer.

I nodded thoughtfully, having been genuinely interested in his monologue, as well as extremely grateful for it. It had kept me fully occupied and engaged for the half hour he and I – along with Alison, Luke, Ruby and Cameron – had been sitting at a table in the expansive bar on Portwall Lane, which served some of Ruby’s favourite cocktails.