When she returned she seemed flustered and took off her jumper. Red and purple welts lined her inner arm where a knife had cut deeply into the skin. I leant over and ran my finger across the marks.

‘He surely isn’t that important,’ I said. She tugged frantically at her sleeves, having unwittingly offered up a glimpse of her hidden misery.

‘Are you still together? You and this Mitch chap?’ If Amber found solace in my questions, fooling herself that she still had the wherewithal to break hearts, she didn’t show it. She appeared all but dead, emotionless, and I was eager to get away.

‘No. We never really were. He’s always been in love with someone else,’ she sighed, pulling her jumper back on over her head. ‘What about you, Arthur? Did you ever find that special someone?’

‘Yes, indeed I have. Rebecca. The amazing thing is that I believe she used to know your boyfriend Mitch.’ I waited. How glorious the moment. It had been a long ten years, the first few wasted on futile dreams of this bag lady. Now I watched her tense. Bitch. Then I carried on.

‘I was with her at the cinema when I saw you. She said hello to your friend.’ They say revenge is best served cold and this was indeed proving to be true.

‘That was Rebecca?’ Amber’s eyes stared in amazement. A toddler passed by, bent down to stroke the hound. It snarled back.

‘Yes. The tall gorgeous blonde. I’m a lucky man. We’re going to be married.’

I toyed with Amber’s emotions, bandying questions and answers about my relationship with her boyfriend’s first love. Amber squirmed. No doubt she’d add a few new knife marks to the criss-cross pattern on her arms when she got home.

As we were packing up to go, I asked a final question.

‘Do you know a chap called Oliver? A good friend of Rebecca’s.’

‘Yes, Oliver Moreton. He was Mitch’s best friend until he went off with Rebecca. Oliver introduced me to Mitch. You remember, during the time when you and I were seeing each other?’ This was the first nail in Oliver’s coffin. How clever he must have thought he was, using Amber to entice Mitch away from Rebecca.

‘Big chap isn’t he. A bit like Frankenstein.’ I laughed. ‘Rebecca doesn’t talk about him. They seem to have an unsavoury history.’ I waited while the dog sprang to life, anticipating a return to activity.

‘I think Rebecca suffers from sour grapes. She made some ridiculous accusations about Oliver attacking her, raping her. Oliver wouldn’t hurt a soul. He’s my best friend. A real gentle giant,’ Amber said. ‘Anyway, it was nice to see you, Arthur. Keep in touch.’ With that, she and the dog were gone.