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Lucy’s face lit up. ‘Oh, my God. Harri, these are gorgeous. Thank you.’

She pulled me into a quick hug, squeezing a little tighter than usual. ‘Just be careful, OK?’ she murmured.

I nodded, following her out into the lobby. ‘I will.’

I watched Lucy disappear into the cold, wet night, clutching her kids’ hands tightly. My heart was thundering in my chest, wondering what Rupert had done now. I didn’t have my phone and was too impatient to wait till I got home, so I steered myself towards the office and opened the community centre laptop. The password: Gorbals1 was stuck to the top with a green Post-it note. I guess security wasn’t a number-one priority round here.

The office was too quiet. Not peaceful quiet. The other kind. The kind that made every tiny noise feel too loud – the hum of the heater, the faint buzz of the strip lights, the chatter of the folk passing by and leaving the centre. I clicked on Internet Explorer and typed in ‘Rupert Hope video’, and sure enough, the stupid, tinny sound of Rupert’s voice came out of the laptop speakers.

I should’ve turned it off. I knew that. I had known that about ten seconds in. And yet I listened:

‘I just want to say, publicly, that I’m devastated—’

‘Oh, shut the fuck up,’ I muttered, dragging my sleeve under my eyes before anything properly embarrassing could happen.

On screen, Rupert leaned forward, all sad eyes and sincerity, like he hadn’t been caught with his hands – well. Everywhere they shouldn’t have been.

‘I love my wife—’

My own hands folded into fists. ‘Aye, funny way of showing it, you absolute prick!’

The door opened. I flinched, folding the laptop shut. It was too late. Jamie stood in the doorway, one hand still on the handle, eyes flicking from me to the laptop and back again.

There was a beat.

‘Am I interrupting a porno or a murder?’ he asked, watching me jump.

I sniffed, sitting up straighter. ‘I am considering it,’ I said, only half paying attention to what he had said.

‘A porno, really? In that case . . . what’s your genre? Fake taxi? Toy boy? Oh, please God, tell me it’s a threesome!’ He grinned widely, stepping inside and closing the door behind him with his foot.

‘No! Ew! Contemplating a murder, you absolute creep!’ I managed a smile, knowing full well he’d be accepted onto any porn set with that walloper – honestly, the poor girls would have to sign a waiver.

‘Is that him?’ He jerked his head towards the laptop where Rupert’s stupid voice was still playing.

‘No,’ I said flatly. ‘It’s just a random man I enjoy shouting at in my spare time.’ I clutched my hair in my hands and straightened up.

He smirked. ‘Healthy hobby, Harri.’

Something between a laugh and a sound of defeated collapse came out of me. ‘Rupert’s posted a video.’

‘Course he has,’ Jamie said. ‘So dramatic! So self-serving.’

‘Lucy told me tonight. It’s a public apology,’ I said, making air quotes. ‘I mean, it’s clearly intended to be heartfelt. But very . . . rehearsed. I honestly think he practised that in a mirror with a fucking ring light.’

Jamie leaned back against the desk opposite me, arms folded. ‘Did he cry?’

‘Nearly,’ I said, immediately covering my face.

‘Shame,’ he said. ‘Bet it would’ve been nice to see him suffer.’

I huffed out a laugh despite myself. Then it slipped. The laugh, the edge, the whatever-it-was holding me up. ‘I just—’ I stopped, pressing my lips together. ‘He’s making it sound like he’s the victim here. Like this has happened to him,’ I added, my voice tightening. ‘Like I’m supposed to sit there and feel sorry for him because he’s “made a mistake”. Lucy practically said the same thing. It was like she felt sorry for him! That I shouldn’t throw him away over it.’

‘Cheating’s no a mistake,’ Jamie said, quiet but firm. ‘It’s a choice.’

‘I know that,’ I said, softer now. ‘I do. It’s just . . . seeing his face, hearing him say my name like that—’ I gestured vaguely at the laptop. ‘It makes me feel like I’m losing my mind a bit.’

‘You’re not,’ he said without hesitation.