‘Lovely.’

‘And she’s here, at mine. You said I have to get permission … first.’

Mary had haggled for hours with the board over the intimacy clause in Macdowall’s life licence. Her boss, Catherine, thought it was worth a shot; and three of four parole-board members agreed, but none of them had thought through the process of permission-giving, which, as usual for social work, was obviously ridiculous.

‘Her name’s Fiona Bellwood and she’s thirty-five. She wants to be a writer. I’ll put her on?’

Mary didn’t have time to say no; Fiona Bellwood was on the line. ‘Hello, Mrs Shields? In the interests of full disclosure, I do have a twelve-year-old son, James, but he’s not here, he’s with his dad.’

Macdowall laughed in the background. He was probably naked.

‘You want to have sex with Macdowall tonight, is that right, Fiona?’

‘Yes, I would, if that’s okay with you. God, this is weird.’

‘I’m sorry, but he doesn’t have my permission. We’d need time to do an assessment.’ If anyone ever told Mary they’d need time to do an assessment before answering a simple question, she’d slam an empty bottle of red wine over their head.

‘So, you’re saying?’

‘Go home, Fiona.’

‘And if I don’t?’

Macdowall had grabbed the handset. ‘She’s going home.’ His tone was defeated. Good. ‘But I like her. We spent all day together.’

‘So get a joint account.’

‘Gimme a break. It’s been over eleven years. This feels unreasonable. And the second warning, really, in my very first letter – can you do that: both at once? I came to the office. You’d gone.’

‘I left at 9.14 a.m. The appointment was for nine. We can argue about it in front of the board if you like.’

‘Okay, no worries. Sorry for calling like this, it won’t happen again.’

‘Good. And to be clear, the answer to your question is no. Fiona needs to go home. It’s late and I’m not being paid, and you must never contact me this way again. It’s completely inappropriate. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.’

Macdowall barely managed an ‘okay’ before hanging up, and Mary knew he’d screw Fiona Bellwood anyway. Probably already was. From behind.