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Halfway across the room, Mack caught her eye. He froze, for a fraction of a second, then turned away and carried on walking, before stopping and looking back at her.

Maybe she was being paranoid, but it seemed to her he had the expression of a man who had been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

He walked over, Ben a couple of steps behind him, a warm smile on his face.

‘Mary!’ He put his hand out, palm up. ‘Don’t get up. Ryan, nice to see you.’ He looked from Otis to Sally. ‘I’m going to say it – they’re getting big!’

‘Have a nice meal?’ Mary said, taking care to enunciate her words.

‘Just a couple of beers.’ Ben looked at her, his eyes narrow, his smile lacking any warmth. He gestured from her wine glass to the empty margarita jug. ‘You look like you had a few of these Mexican drinks!’

‘Saturday night,’ Ryan said. ‘Nothing wrong with that.’

‘Hey, fine by me,’ Ben said. ‘Live and let live. Nice to see you all. Mack – are you walking home, or could I give you a ride?’

‘I’ll walk,’ Mack said. ‘Thanks for the offer.’

He headed for the exit, pausing for a wave goodbye before he left. Ben caught Mary’s eye.

‘Enjoy dessert,’ he said, then followed Mack, with a look of quiet triumph on his smug face.

One More Thing to Deal with

Otis and Sally were in the front door almost before it was fully open, phones in their hands, important messages to read and send. They would disappear to their rooms, don their headphones, and dissolve into the online world.

Mary hated it. It seemed like such a waste of life: she was sure that in the future this would be seen as similar to smoking: something incredibly harmful that wasn’t fully understood so was allowed to happen.

Mainly because it made some people obnoxiously rich. Smoking, alcohol, opiates, crap food, and now social media: people loved to do things that felt good but were harmful to them, and the history of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries was that there were plenty of people prepared to take their money and help them do so.

Ryan put his hand on her hip, then slid it onto her butt. ‘That seemed an odd exchange with Ben and Mack?’

‘Yeah, I think Ben is angling to take him as a client,’ she said. ‘In fact I know he is. He brought it up with me yesterday – he’s friends with Mack’s son, and, since at some point the business will pass to him, Ben feels like it makes sense for him to be more involved – by which he means, own the relationship.’

‘You’ve worked with Mack for years. He won’t change.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘You didn’t see them tonight? And then there was Ben’s comment about drinking. He was trying to make me look bad.’

‘For having a few drinks on a Saturday night? I doubt Mack will care about that. I don’t think he’s any stranger to a hangover himself.’

‘You’re probably right. But it’s one more thing to deal with. I’m beginning to wish we’d never hired Ben. He’s so competitive; it’s exhausting to be around, we’re supposed to be on the same team.’

Ryan walked into the mud room. He took off his shoes and stashed them under a bench. One of Otis’s shoes was by the door; the other was on the stairs leading up to the main house. Sally’s were right in the middle of the floor.

‘Look at this,’ he said. ‘Could they have made more mess with only four items?’

It was a joke, but there was a hard edge to his voice, a sense he was suppressing a level of anger that he knew to be unreasonable.

‘They’re kids,’ she said. ‘That’s what they do: make messes.’

He looked at his watch. ‘Still only nine-thirty,’ he said. ‘Big night out in Barrow. I was going to suggest an early night’ – he raised a suggestive eyebrow – ‘but this is early even for us. You want another drink?’

She shook her head. ‘I’ll be a write-off in the morning if I do.’ She followed him into the kitchen. ‘But if you’re offering, I’d have a tea. Mint? Or something similar?’

He filled the kettle and flicked it on, then opened the fridge.

He stood, motionless, the door open.

‘Ryan?’ Mary said. ‘Everything OK?’