They watched Mark walk away, springy and straight-backed, into the crowd.

"Nice guy," Bella ventured.

“Yeah, well, I could see you thought so.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You know what I mean, Bella. Flirting. Laughing at his jokes like that. It was embarrassing.”

“What?”

“Oh come on, you know you were doing it. What’s the matter with you?”

“What’s the matter with me?” Her voice squeaked up an octave and the people stood nearby turned to look. Bella swallowed and spoke again, in a lower tone.

“What’s the matter with me? What did I do? I was just being friendly.”

Jake stared at her for a long moment, the black look that she’d come to dread covering his face. She stared back, refusing to drop her gaze.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence and then he smiled – a little strained, but a real smile. He reached for her hand again.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I’m being unfair. It’s just – oh, I’m just fed up at the moment, Bella. I really am. I’m sorry darling. Come here.”

He kissed her. She was still angry and unresponsive but after a moment, she felt her mouth relax under his.

Jake drew back and looked at her, eyebrows raised.

“Do you forgive me?”

Bella sighed. “Of course.”

“Great. I’m really sorry, darling. Come on, let’s go home.”

Back at Fever Street, he made love to her but in an absent-minded sort of way. He was still abstracted, still quiet. His body moved against hers, in the right rhythm and making the right sounds, but Bella could tell that Jake, the real true Jake, was miles away. They lay together afterwards in silence and she tried to breath normally, all the while fighting down confusion and the remnants of anger and a vague, shapeless unhappiness. The house had been empty when they returned but as they lay there, Bella heard the door open downstairs and the clop of Veronica's heels on the hallway floor. She felt Jake stiffen slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if his entire body were straining to hear. After a moment, he got up and muttered something about fetching a glass of water.

Bella watched the door close behind him and felt a surge of misery. What was wrong with her? Jake didn't want to be with her - he'd rather spend time with anyone, with his brother's girlfriend, than with his own. She stared at the ceiling and felt slow tears begin to leak from her eyes, running down her cheeks to pool wetly and uncomfortably in her ears.

After a while, she got up and put on her pyjamas, bought specially for Jake’s eyes, pale pink with a lace trim; tight shorts and a second-skin vest. Her nipples pressed against the material in tiny, stiff points. Good – let them. She had bigger tits than Veronica, at least. Bella brushed her hair, wiped the streaked mascara from under her eyes and dabbed her neck with perfume. Thus caparisoned, she went downstairs, trying not to rush, aiming for casualness. She could hear voices, laughter and music from behind the closed door of the living room. She paused outside the doorway, took a deep breath, put her shoulders back, stuck out her chest and turned the handle.

"Oh, hi Bella. How are you?"

Veronica sat curled on the sofa by the wall, long legs tucked beneath her. Jake was sitting on the floor by her side, his face turned to hers and laughing.

Bella swallowed, the shaft of body-confidence that had propelled her downstairs ebbing fast.

"Hi. I’m fine, thanks."

"Want a drink?"

Veronica waved a glass at her. Bella nodded, reluctantly. She edged into the room and hovered for a moment, wondering where to sit down. Veronica was glugging pale yellow wine into one of the big wine glasses. She held the brimming glass out to Bella, who took it, numbly. Veronica’s nails, recently painted, were like ten little iridescent pearls glued to the ends of her long fingers. Bella clutched the glass, conscious of her own nails, bitten ragged.

“So, what are you two doing home on a Friday night?”

“Oh, you know. I’m really tired. I can’t be arsed to go out every Friday,” said Jake. He was looking at Veronica, with the same eager, laughing expression on his face. Bella felt her stomach cramp and felt her fingers tighten on her wine glass.

Veronica’s mouth quirked upwards.

“What about you, Bella?”

“Oh, the same,” said Bella, unhappily. She could hear the misery in her voice and made more of an effort. “It’s been a really vile week at the office. I wouldn’t have believed a job that’s so dull could get so stressful, ha ha.”

“That’s often the way.” Veronica threw back her head to drain the last of her glass. Jake and Bella watched her long neck ripple as she swallowed. “Why don’t you look for something better?”

“Well – “

“Don’t tell me, I know. God – interviews - all that shit – it’s enough to bore you to tears. So you just hang onto to a tedious situation, don’t you, just hoping to get through it day by day. Waiting for the weekend…”

Bella nodded. As was usual when Veronica spoke, she couldn’t help but watch her, silently, almost in a trance. It wasn’t that Veronica was boring. It was just her face was so mesmerising. But why is it, Bella asked herself in the privacy of her own head, watching Veronica’s face as she raised the glass to her lips, the momentary flash of pink tongue as she took a sip of wine. It wasn’t a face that was particularly mobile, or expressive. There was just something about her bone structure, the lift of an eyebrow, the curl of a lip… she drew the eye. Bella couldn’t stop watching her sometimes, despite the pain of knowing that in terms of beauty, Veronica left her squirming in the dust. It doesn’t matter, she told herself fiercely. Jake loves me, he’s with me. Not her. Not anyone else. Me.

She shifted her gaze to Jake. The last few days of sunshine had tanned him and his stubble was particularly heavy tonight. He looked like a dissolute pirate. Despite his earlier behaviour, she felt a sudden stab of desire and shifted on the sofa, pressing her thighs together. She wondered if he could hear what she was thinking. Let’s go upstairs, she thought, trying to beam her thoughts into his head.

Not a chance. He’d barely glanced at her since she entered the room. Bella swallowed another mouthful of wine and wondered whether she had the courage to cross the room and sit next to him, under Veronica’s satirical eye.

The front door slammed and there were footfalls outside the room. Carl barged into the living room. Bella jumped, unnoticed she hoped, by the others.

“Hi.” Carl slung his bag into one of the armchairs and divested himself of his jacket. He looked hot and dishevelled. “Fuck me, it’s hot out there. What are you all doing sat inside?”

Veronica and Jake said nothing. Bella screwed up her courage and made a suggestion.

“That’s true, we could all sit in the garden.”

“No.”

Veronica and Jake spoke simultaneously, looked at each other and half-laughed. Bella felt annoyance rise at their instant dismissal of her proposal.

“Why not?”

Nobody answered her for a moment. Then Veronica spoke. She spoke slowly, as if considering.

“It’s an absolute jungle out there, Bella. I can’t even remember the last time we cut the lawn.”

“But – we could sit on the patio – “

Bella’s voice faltered. All three of them were shaking their heads.

“It’s crawling with bugs out there too. Mosquitoes. There’s a pond somewhere at the back, I think they’re breeding in it.”

“Yeah, fuck sitting in the garden.” Carl stared at Bella appraisingly and she felt herself start to blush. She looked away, breathing deeply. “Let’s go down the pub; I need a beer.”

“Good idea, honey,” said Veronica.

“The one at the end of the road’s got a late licence,” Jake said, unfolding himself from the floor. He hesitated and then held out a hand to Veronica who regarded it blankly for a moment, as if she’d forgotten who he was. Then she gave a tiny shake of her head and let herself be pulled gently to her feet. Only then did Jake turn to Bella and hold out his arm.