'I had some money in my bedroom,' I said.

Brendan looked round cheerfully.

'Yes?'

'Some of it's gone. I wondered if anybody had borrowed it.'

Brendan shrugged.

'Not guilty,' he said. 'Where was it?'

'What does that matter?'

'It might have got lost or fallen down the back of something.'

'It doesn't matter,' I said. 'Also, I can't find my Tampax.'

'Kerry may have borrowed it,' Brendan said. 'She's having her period.'

'Borrowed it?'

'Yes,' said Brendan. 'It's anal sex only at the moment.'

I couldn't quite believe what I'd heard. I felt bile rise, sour and sharp, in the back of my throat.

'Sorry?' I said.

'Only joking,' said Brendan, grinning at Troy, whose face had gone as blank as a stone. 'Miranda likes it when I tease her. At least I think she does. It's your deal.'

I started going over it all in my head, and I tried to explain it to Nick. I told him how I'd put the slip of paper in the door and how it had been in a different place when I checked it. I took a sip of wine. We were sitting in a wine bar on Tottenham Court Road, just round the corner from his flat.

'I'm finding it rather complicated,' I said. 'You know in films where they leave a slip of paper and then they see it lying on the floor and they know someone's been there?'

'Yes,' said Nick. 'It happened in The Sting. Robert Redford did it because these gangsters were after him.'

'Really?' I said. 'I think I saw it on TV years ago. I can't remember that bit. I'm terrible about films. I forget them completely.' I took another gulp of wine. It felt like I was drinking more than Nick was. He was sitting there, being all calm and sober, and I was talking and drinking. 'The difficult thing for me was the slip of paper being back but in an obviously different place. Do you see what I mean?'

'No,' said Nick.

I found it hard to work out myself. I really had to stop to think about it. It hurt my brain.

'The thing is,' I said, 'most people wouldn't notice the piece of paper at all. And maybe, like five per cent of people would spot the paper and they would make a huge effort to put it back exactly where it had been left in order to disguise that they'd opened the door. But of that five per cent about five per cent – do you see that? Five per cent of the five per cent – a tiny Machiavellian group – would deliberately put the piece of paper in an obviously different place. They're calling your bluff, do you see?'

'Not really,' said Nick.

I could see that Nick's attention was wandering, that he was becoming impatient, but I couldn't stop myself. I didn't want to stop myself. In a way I wanted to test him. If you like someone – or love them – you don't mind them being obsessed with something. You don't even mind them being boring. Perhaps I wanted to see how tolerant he could be towards me.

'Brendan is playing with me. He put that piece of paper there deliberately so that I knew that it had been put back. But also so that I knew that he had put it back so that I would know that he had not tried to conceal that he had been in my room.' I took another sip of wine. 'He was sending me a message. He was saying: "You were suspecting that I was looking in your room; I know that you were suspecting me; I want to show you that I know; I also want to show you that I don't care that you know; also, I have been in your room and you don't know what I've actually been up to." That's another thing. I left seventy-five pounds hidden in a book. It's my secret stash.'

'Can't you just go to the bank machine like other people?' Nick asked.

'That's no good,' I said. 'Sometimes the bank machines run out of money. You should always have some cash hidden somewhere. Now, any normal thief would have taken all the money. But Brendan just took fifteen pounds. He was teasing me. He's trying to get into my head.'

'Into your head?'

'And now here I am. He's living in my fucking flat and I'm sitting here pissed in this bar.'

There was quite a long silence now. I felt like a comedian who was doing his act and nobody was laughing. There was just silence out there in the audience.

'I can't do this,' Nick said, finally.

'What do you mean?' I said, except I knew.

'Do you mind if I'm honest?'

'No,' I said, knowing that when someone said they were going to be honest they never meant they were going to be extra specially nice.

'Do you know what I think?'

'No, I don't.'

'I don't think,' said Nick. 'I know. You're still in love with Brendan.'

'What?' I said. This I really hadn't expected.

'You're obsessed with him. He's all you talk about.'

'Of course I'm obsessed with him,' I said. 'He's like a worm that's infesting me. He's tormenting me.'

'Exactly. It was lovely, Miranda.'

'Was,' I said dully.

Now, finally, he took a sip of wine.

I'm sorry,' he said.

I wanted to shout at him. I wanted to hit him. And then suddenly I didn't. I fumbled in my purse and found a twenty-pound note and put it by my empty glass. I leaned over, a bit unsteadily, and kissed him.

'Bye-bye, Nick,' I said. 'It was really the wrong time.'

I walked out of the bar. Another of these sudden exits. I was meant to be staying the night with Nick. That was what I had promised Laura. Another broken promise.

The next day, I lay for a while on Laura's sofa before making myself get up and face the morning. Outside, it was windy and still half-dark. I was cold, I was tired, my hair needed washing. My tongue felt too thick in my mouth. I hadn't run for days now and my limbs felt stiff with disuse. I shut my eyes and listened to the companionable murmurs coming from Laura's bedroom and felt as if I were on a slope, and sliding down it, unable to stop myself. Anything I grabbed hold of came away in my hands. I thought about the day ahead. I had to go to the bloody house in Hampstead again and paint a red wall green. In my lunch hour I had to collect Kerry from her work and look at yet another overpriced flat. And I'd come back here as late as possible, so Laura and Tony didn't start getting irritated by my presence. I sighed and with an immense effort threw off the duvet.

I got to Journey's End, the travel agent's where Kerry worked, a bit early and shouldered the door open, grateful to be out of the blustery weather. Kerry's boss, Malcolm, was at the nearest desk, trying to persuade an overweight man in a loud suit that it was safe to travel to Egypt, and a couple of other customers milled around by the brochure stand, looking at pictures of sun and sea and laughing young people with white teeth and blond hair. Kerry was at the far end of the room talking to another man in a long overcoat, and although he had his back turned to me I saw it was Brendan and stopped in my tracks, a few feet from them.

'I'm overdrawn already,' Kerry was saying, pleadingly.

'Forty quid should see me through.'

'But…'

'Kerry.' His voice was soft and heavy. It made me shudder just to hear it. 'Do you begrudge me? After everything I've done.'

'You know it's not that, Bren.' And she started fishing around in her purse for money.

'No? I'm surprised, Kerry. Disappointed.'

'Don't say that. Here. This is all I've got.'

'How can I, now?'

'Please, Bren. Take it.' Kerry held out a handful of notes and at the same time looked up and saw I was there. Her cheeks flushed and she looked away, back at Brendan.

'I must say, you look a bit washed out today,' he said as he took the money and stuffed it into his pocket. 'Mmm?'

I saw Kerry flinch as if he'd slapped her. She put a hand half across her face, wanting to hide.