‘Yes. He knew people who could get the drugs. He got me into it, like he got me into you.’

‘Go on.’

‘This guy, Zach, a headbanger, was bad news. Front row of the scrum, no one dared confront him. He was a heavy user, always looking for the next fix and a regular dealer. Oliver told me to watch him. The party was a few days before Christmas and you were out with Jodi. Things got heavy and Zach was boasting about his contacts and throwing around bags of the white stuff.’

The mention of Oliver made me anxious. I was sweating. Neither of us ate much as we toyed with the spaghetti.

‘Anyway, on the night before Christmas Eve… remember, you said you were leaving that evening to go home?… I got a panic call from Oliver around five o’clock. The drug squad were doing an impromptu raid on properties in our area over Christmas and Zach’s operation was at the top of the hit list. Oliver’s father was Chief Constable Moreton, remember?’

It all sounded unreal, like a bad dream. I was an outsider listening to a story about drug running, cops and robbers. You stretched your hand across, seeking mine and willed me to understand. The wine clouded my thoughts. I let you carry on.

‘Zach had hidden his stash of cocaine in various places and Oliver had a tip off that a large quantity had been smuggled into my flat on the evening of the lads’ party. I needed to find it and if not, get out and fast. Otherwise I was looking at a long stretch.’ Oliver, of course, had played the loyal friend.

‘I searched high and low and found nothing. I even pulled up floorboards. Can you imagine Mr Perkins’ face when he discovered his precious flat ransacked?’ You tried to make light of it. For you it was a long time ago but it felt like yesterday to me.

‘Anyway, I wasn’t prepared to hang around and find out. I couldn’t tell you. I knew how you hated drugs and I wasn’t prepared to lose you. I decided to disappear, clear out the flat and leave for a short while; until Oliver gave me the green light to return.’

‘It never came, did it?’

‘What?’

‘The green light.’ I felt the bile rise as the storyline unfolded. The drink made me reckless. I wanted to scream, smash the glass, and hit you hard across the face. I needed to scratch your flawless cheeks until they bled.

‘Who was she, Mitch? The girl you went away with. I saw her in the window, helping you pack. You thought I’d gone to Durham but I waited until Christmas Eve and I popped round to see you.’