The Victoria pub was a fifteen-minute walk from the flat and I arrived early to help Jodi and Taylor prepare for their big night. The pub was festooned with one year on banners and helium balloons. Seventies rock music blasted out from tin speakers. The tackiness bore proud signature to their lesbian love.

‘Rebecca,’ whooped Taylor as she whisked away my coat and thrust a glass of cheap champagne into my hand.

Jodi appeared and whispered in my ear, ‘Not in party gear? Don’t worry we’ll pretend you’re in fancy dress.’ She winked. She understood.

After the rape, Jodi had taken me in, washed my face, run hot baths and watched over me like a hawk for the next few days. She organised taxis, itineraries and fended off questions from my parents. I lay in a heap unable to move. I could never repay her. She shuffled me onto the flight to Hong Kong, my stopgap on the way to Australia. Other than Jodi and Oliver, no one else ever knew what had happened. And James, of course, whose own indiscretions had led him to the wrong place at the wrong time.

The pub was soon packed with an eclectic mix of people. Taylor worked in theatre, treading the boards in local productions, dreaming of her big break. The fancy dress theme allowed men to dress as ladies and vice versa. Although I felt uncomfortable, everyone looked strangely at ease. Jodi had nothing to prove. Apart from a silver stud in the side of her nose, she was the picture of middle-class respectability in jeans and T-shirt.

The noise drowned out meaningful conversation. I mooched around and suddenly spotted Arthur in a corner, sitting on his own.

‘That’s the guy from the gym, I think. Arthur something. How do you know him?’ I asked when Jodi appeared.

‘I don’t. He’s probably a regular who’s walked in off the street. I’m on the way to the bar. Same again?’ she yelled through the thumping background beat.

‘Okay. Just one more.’

Arthur was reading a book again, relaxed and bizarrely able to concentrate through the hubbub. I think he smiled from his shady corner, over the top of a pint of lager. I can’t be sure but that’s what I thought.

I dithered and tried in vain to control an overloaded bladder. I finally gave in and headed for the Ladies’. He was sitting beside the swing door. It never occurred to me that this was anything more than coincidence.

‘Hi,’ I said.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to walk past without some sort of acknowledgement. It was only a few days since I’d seen him and it would have been rude.

‘Rebecca. What a surprise!’ He stood up.

I told him I’d be back shortly and excused myself to find the toilet.