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He stares at me for what seems like an age, his face completely inscrutable.

‘You looked at my messages on the boat?’ he says, and it’s lucky I’m too angry to feel properly ashamed. ‘I trusted you. I thought we had a connection, that we understood each other, but you don’t know me at all, do you?’

‘Based on what I’ve learned tonight, I think I know as much as I ever want to.’

In front of me, Nathan visibly deflates. ‘I see,’ he says quietly, his voice devoid of emotion once more. ‘In that case, I think I’d like you to leave now.’

‘My pleasure,’ I tell him as I pick up my shoes and swoop out of the door.

25

‘So, how was your trip to South Africa?’ Lucy asks once I’m settled in one of the chairs in her salon with a cup of coffee.

It should be such a simple question to answer, and part of me thinks I should just gloss over the whole thing with an anodyne, Good, thanks. Lucy is already running her hands through my hair and inspecting the roots, so I might even get away with it if I’m lucky. But I probably won’t. Even if she wasn’t a friend, who would see through me at the best of times, I’m not exactly firing on all cylinders today. I may not be jetlagged as such, given that the time difference is only two hours, but my overnight flight only landed this morning and it was another sleepless affair.

‘It was… mixed,’ I say eventually. In the mirror, I see Lucy’s eyes snap up from their inspection of my hair and lock on to mine.

‘Mixed?’

‘The work bit went really well, after a shaky start,’ I tell her, keen to put off telling her about the Nathan fiasco for as long as I can. I’m sure she’ll be sympathetic, but I’ve felt an odd sense of guilt ever since I found out about Kayleigh. I know it’s irrational; yes, I kissed him on the lips, but it only happened once, it was brief and it was as far as we went, physically. I also genuinely believed he was single, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling somehow complicit in his betrayal.

‘What kind of shaky start?’ Lucy asks.

‘The main guy, Jeremiah, took against me the instant he clapped eyes on me. I think he was expecting a middle-aged bloke rather than me.’

‘Sounds like a misogynist,’ she observes. ‘Just because you’re a smokin’ babe doesn’t mean there’s nothing between your ears.’

‘Smokin’ babe?’ I laugh. ‘I think you’re playing into his hands with that description. Anyway, I agree. It took quite a lot to convince him that I do, in fact, know what I’m talking about. Once he was on board though, he was a pussy cat. He even invited me to his house for a barbecue on my final evening.’

The braai at Jeremiah’s was the only good thing that happened after my bust-up with Nathan. I didn’t see him again after that Sunday night; I avoided the gym and went straight to the office each morning, and made a point of avoiding any of the places we’d been together in the evenings. I missed him, but I was still so angry, and confused about how I could have got him so wrong, and how he could have thought I would be on his side. It didn’t make any sense, but I couldn’t face talking to him again and confusing my feelings even more. This whole experience was just more proof that some men couldn’t be trusted, however nice they seemed. I had let my walls slip over the past few weeks, and that had been a mistake. Instead, I focused as hard as I could on my work, often staying late in the office to draw up the functional design documents as I found it easier to concentrate there. In the flat, I always felt like I was on high alert, listening for a knock at the door that, thankfully, never came.

I don’t know if Jeremiah picked up that all wasn’t well in my world during that final week but, whether he did or didn’t, he was a lot kinder to me and surprised me with his enthusiasm for my design. The invitation to his house on my last night in Cape Town was a particularly welcome distraction, as I was very conscious that it was Nathan’s final opportunity to try to patch things up between us, and I would probably have stayed in all evening on the off chance, even though I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him for nearly a week.

Seeing Jeremiah on his home turf had proved to be a revelation. There was no sign of the gruff, aggressive guy I’d got used to in the office. He’s evidently head over heels in love with his wife, a tall blonde woman who carries herself with that effortless confidence only the truly beautiful possess. His daughter was also delightful, and it was clear that he dotes on her. She’s got him wrapped around her little finger now, so goodness knows what will happen when she becomes a teenager. I just pity any future boyfriends; if there’s any father I could see sitting on his porch with a shotgun waiting for his daughter to come home, it’s Jeremiah. His wife confided in me that she’d have liked to have had more children, but there had been some serious complications during Flora’s birth which meant the medics had advised her against another pregnancy. Of course, I couldn’t help comparing the wholesome image of family life that they portrayed with Nathan’s situation, and he didn’t come out of it at all well.

‘So how long do we have you for before you disappear again?’ Lucy asks, breaking me out of my reverie.

‘I don’t know. I can finish the detailed designs remotely, and hopefully, they have a clear enough understanding of the solution to sign them off without me having to fly out there and take them through line by line. If not, I’ll have to go back in a few weeks. Otherwise I can leave them to it while the techies get on and build the extra bits of software and go back to help them with the testing. That would be several months away.’

‘OK,’ she says, sounding thoughtful. ‘So we’ve got time to sort your hair out. I’m still a little nervous about dyeing it, as it’s quite difficult to get even colouring on long hair like yours, but we could have a go if you want.’ She smiles. ‘I’d have to get you to sign a disclaimer promising to take full responsibility for the result. I don’t want your mum on my case.’

‘None of us want that,’ I agree. ‘Are there any other options?’

‘You could keep the silver, in which case, I’ll just recolour your roots to match. I’ve said before that it actually suits you, although I might soften the colour a little.’

‘I’m not sure. Silver-haired Athena doesn’t seem to make good choices.’

She raises her eyebrows quizzically.

‘I’ll tell you once we’ve decided what we’re doing,’ I tell her. ‘It’s a long story.’

‘Fair enough. Your final option is the most radical, which is to go for a much shorter style.’ She smiles again, thinking she’s safe in the knowledge that I’d never go for that. In truth, I wouldn’t normally.

However, these are not normal times and, whether it’s sleep deprivation affecting my decision-making ability, or simply a need to reinvent myself after the Nathan fiasco, the idea of a totally different look suddenly appeals.

‘What did you have in mind?’ I ask her.

‘Are you serious?’