’d like to tell you it’s beautiful”—Harry squints through the windshield as he pulls up in front of the house—“but I can’t see a bloody thing.”

“That’s because it’s the country,” Emily says. “Wake up, Alice, we’re here.”

Emily fumbles in the dark for the key, eventually managing to open the door. She walks quickly around the house turning on the lamps, filling the rooms with a warm apricot glow as Alice and Harry stand in the front garden shivering, waiting for the dogs to empty their bladders after the long journey.

By the time Humphrey and Dharma are done, there is a roaring fire and the kettle is already whistling away on the stove.

Alice hasn’t been to Brianden for a long, long time, and she stands in the doorway for a few moments, amazed at what Emily has done, how she has transformed a rather ugly, characterless 1980s house into such a welcoming home.

The salmon-pink carpet has gone, replaced by a thick woven wool in a rich honey. A squashy biscuit-colored sofa faces the fireplace, a red-check armchair tucked into the corner. A brown leather ottoman is piled high with books and knickknacks, and underneath the window is a large oak table that Emily found in Stow.

Tall silver candlesticks stand on the table, which Emily now lights, not caring that it might be over the top.

The kitchen used to be high white gloss, with sleek silver doorknobs and granite-look Formica tops. Emily found a local carpenter to make Shaker cupboard doors, which she painted a soft sunny yellow, and the counters are now thick industrial butcher’s block.

At one end is a long scrubbed pine table, with a mishmash of chairs that Emily has picked up at various places, none of which match but all of which work. The walls are covered in framed photographs of friends and family and small paintings she has picked up at local art galleries. It is warm, and welcoming, and quite clearly, as every kitchen should be, the heart of the house.

Harry brings the shopping bags in—they stopped at a supermarket en route—and puts them on the kitchen table. Alice expertly unpacks the bags and puts things away, and Emily places three oversize mugs of tea on a tray and grabs a packet of Bourbons, opening it with her teeth, then shaking the biscuits onto a plate.

“Come on, you can finish that later.” She carries the tray into the living room and sets it down gently on the coffee table before collapsing on the sofa with her tea.

Alice takes a mug and sits next to her, kicking off her boots and curling her legs beneath her as Harry sits in the armchair.

“This is so lovely!” She looks around the room happily. “I can’t believe what you’ve done since I was last here. It looks amazing.”

“I haven’t been here before, obviously,” Harry says with a nod, “but I have to agree this is lovely. I thought you said it was a modern council house.”

“It is.” Emily laughs. “Wait until the morning and then you’ll see what the outside looks like. Still, it’s lovely inside, and we’ve got the most amazing views over the valley. Every time I come down I wonder why I don’t spend more time here.”

“I don’t know how you manage to go back to London after you’ve been here,” Alice sighs. “If this were mine I’d never leave.”

“But you have your museum to take care of,” Harry smiles.

“God. Don’t remind me.”

“I know you won’t believe me but this is actually much more Alice’s style,” Emily says to Harry with a laugh, as somewhere in one of the bags a phone starts to ring. “God, is that mine?” Emily jumps up and starts to rummage in her bag as Alice wearily stands up and crosses the room to hers.

“Nope. It’s probably mine. Doubtless that husband of mine is ringing to tell me he’s missed the train or he won’t be able to make it. Here we go again.” She pulls the phone out and flicks it open.

“Darling, it’s me.”

“Yes, Joe. I know.”

“Look, the meeting’s over but the client wants to have dinner, so I think tonight’s going to be impossible. I think the sensible thing for me to do is go home and get the first train out tomorrow morning.”

“Fine.” Alice’s voice is cold.

“Alice, don’t be like that. I can’t help it, it’s work. There’s nothing I can do.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a nice evening.”

“You too.”

“Bye.” Alice doesn’t wait for an “I love you,” just sighs and puts down the phone.

Joe flips his phone closed, smiles to himself, and heads back into the bar. He’s sure his luck is in tonight, sure that he’ll manage to conquer the ice queen, although surprised that it’s happened this quickly.

They’ve spent the last two hours talking. Joe has learned his lesson and has said as little as possible about himself and his marriage, instead drawing her out, asking her questions about her career, her opinions, her ambitions. Josie may not be stupid, but she’s flattered by the close attention Joe is paying and softened by the amount of alcohol she’s had to drink.

As the evening wears on, Joe moves his chair a little closer, leans forward a little more to hear her better, and Josie is surprised to find herself responding. It’s been such a long time since she allowed herself to be attracted to anyone, and even though this is clearly not going to result in anything—he’s married and they work together, a recipe for disaster—it’s more fun being here with an attractive man than it is being at home on her own.

What harm can it do?

Josie Mitchell didn’t get to run Risk Arb at Goldmans by partying and having a social life. She joined Goldmans’ analyst trainee program straight from university and quickly learned that she was going to be able to rise to the top only if she forgot about friends, boyfriends, and socializing, and focused entirely on her career.

She has had the odd relationship—she’s only human—but her boyfriends have never been able to understand her commitment to work, her drive to succeed, and there was only so long they would put up with being second best.

The only person who understood was James. A managing director at Schroder Salomon Smith Barney, he worked as hard as she did, but knew the importance of keeping a balance, and for a while he made her forget that work was the only thing that mattered in her life. For a while James was the only thing that mattered.

Josie fell in love with James, and when James left her saying he loved her but wasn’t ready for commitment—“It’s not you, it’s me”—she vowed not to make the same mistake again, vowed that no one would hurt her like that again.

She stopped caring what people thought of her, toughened up her act, and refused ever to put men before her career again. Of course there was the odd brief relationship, but Josie made sure she was always in charge, made sure no one could even come close to bruising, let alone breaking, her heart.

“Sorry about that.” Joe sits down, pulling his chair closer, brushing her knee with his own. “Just had to make a quick phone call.”

“To tell your wife you’re stuck in a meeting?” Josie is amused.

“No, actually. I told her I was with a particularly brilliant and beautiful colleague, and I’m having much too good a time to leave, so I’d probably be late home tonight.”

Josie shakes her head. She knows he’s probably tried this on with a million other women before her. She wants to tell him that he’s being an arse, that he’s completely transparent, that she’s not some bimbo who’s going to fall for the whole married man line, but she doesn’t.

She doesn’t because up until this evening she has genuinely forgotten what it is like to feel turned on, to feel that thrill of attraction, of anticipation. She can feel Joe’s knee gently pressing her own, and she’s astonished to feel a surge of heat in the pit of her stomach.

She knows this is ridiculous. Dangerous. She’s only just started at Godfrey Hamilton Saltz, the last thing she needs is to get involved with someone at work. She ought to just leave now, go before she gets herself into a situation she might not be able to get out of. The attraction is strong, but her survival instinct is stronger.

“I have to go.” Josie shakes her head and reaches for her jacket, ignoring the disappointment on Joe’s face.

“Where do you live?”

“Chelsea.”

Joe’s face lights up. This is going to be easier than he thought. “I’m in Belgravia. We can share a cab.”

Alice cooked: smoked haddock kedgeree, a large mixed salad, and hot crusty bread warmed in the oven. Harry washed up, Emily dried, and by the time everything had been put away they had drunk just over two bottles of wine.

The dogs are stretched out in front of the fire when Harry volunteers to walk them before bed. He puts his jacket on, pulls a woolen hat over his curls (“Don’t say I didn’t come prepared”), and clips their leashes on to take them out.

Alice and Emily wave good-bye, smiling, and as the door firmly shuts behind him Emily exhales loudly.

“Go on then, what do you think?”

“The house is fantastic. I told you.”

Emily hits Alice hard.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, but you know I didn’t mean the house. What do you think of Harry?”

“Harry’s fantastic too.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Emily sighs happily.

“Yes.” Alice nods. “He really is.”

There’s a silence for a few seconds then Emily nudges Alice. “Go on then, tell me what’s fantastic about him.”

“You know what’s fantastic about him.”

“But I want to hear what you think is fantastic about him.”

Alice laughs. “Okay. He’s funny.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Emily hugs her knees.

“Yes. And he’s got a great smile.”

“Hasn’t he though? I told you he had a great smile.”

“I know, and he does.” More silence.

“What else?”

“He’s really interested in people, and interesting.”

“I know! I love that about him.”

“He knew how to make kedgeree.”

“I know! He can cook!”

“He loves animals.” Alice is running out of fantastic things to say about him.

“How perfect is that?”

“That about sums it up,” Alice laughs. “He seems to be pretty perfect.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“There must be something wrong with him,” Alice muses. “No one’s that perfect. Maybe he’s got really stinky cheesy feet.”

“Yeuch! That’s disgusting!” Emily makes a face as she starts laughing.

“I bet that’s it,” Alice continues. “Cheesy disgusting feet with long yellow toenails.”

“Oh God, you’re horrible,” Emily groans through her laughter. “That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t think I want to have sex with him anymore!”

The front door opens and Dharma bounds into the room, followed closely by Humphrey, with Harry taking up the rear. Emily pales.

“Shit,” she whispers to Alice when Alice stops laughing and Harry goes upstairs to the loo. “Do you think he heard me?”

“No, definitely not,” Alice giggles. “Although even if he did, he’s not exactly an innocent, he must know it’s on the menu tonight.”

“Shhh.” Emily nudges her as Harry clumps back down the narrow staircase and tries to make her voice as natural as possible. “So he said yes, did he?”

Alice looks at her strangely. “Yes. He said yes.”

“Oh, good.” Emily’s voice is unnaturally bright and breezy. “Anyone fancy a game of Scrabble?”

In the end they can’t find the Scrabble, decide that Trivial Pursuit is too boring unless you have teams, and they can’t be bothered to play Monopoly, so Boggle it is.

Forty-five minutes later Harry offers to make tea and disappears into the kitchen.

Emily leans over to Alice.

“Alice,” she whispers, “I think it’s nearly time for bed.”

“Is it?” Alice looks at her watch. “It’s only ten and I’m not tired at all.”

“Al-ice,” Emily sings slowly. “I think it’s nearly time for you to go to bed.” She raises an eyebrow as Alice gasps.

“Shit, I’m being so obtuse. I’m having such a lovely time I completely forgot I was being a total gooseberry. Oh God, you’re supposed to be having sex in front of the fire and I’m sitting here like a total idiot. I’m so sorry, I’ll go now.”

She jumps up and walks quickly toward the stairs until Emily runs after her and grabs her, leading her back to the sofa.

“You’re not being a gooseberry,” she whispers. “We’re all having a lovely time, and it will be a bit bloody obvious if Harry comes back with a cup of tea for you and finds you gone. Just drink your tea quickly and then go to bed.”

“Okay. What underwear are you wearing?”

Emily listens to check Harry is still in the kitchen, then quickly lifts her sweater to flash a cream lacy bra.

“Oooh, nice.” Alice whistles her approval.

“I thought so. Black’s always a bit obvious, don’t you think? Is it sexy though?”

“Oh yes. If I was a man I’d definitely fancy you.”

“That’s why I love you.” Emily puts her arms around Alice and gives her a brief hug. “You always know exactly the right thing to say.”

“Tea for three.” Harry comes back into the living room holding the tray, Dharma running around his heels, joined swiftly by Humphrey, the pair of them clearly sensing the rest of the Bourbon biscuits on the tray. “Dharma, down!” he says, as Dharma collapses to the floor. “Good girl!” He turns to Humphrey, who is currently weaving between his legs. “Humphrey, down!” Humphrey jumps up, placing his paws on Harry’s thigh. “Emily,” he says sternly, “I thought you said you’d been practicing.”

“Ah yes.” Emily is embarrassed. “It looks like I still have some work to do.”

Alice snuggles under the duvet, book in hand, and smiles to herself. She is having the nicest time she has had in ages, with nothing and no one else to worry about.

Part of her is dreading Joe coming up tomorrow. Brianden is tiny, but the three of them—Emily, Harry, and Alice—fit perfectly. The house feels just the right size, and Alice is nervous that Joe’s arrival will cause the house to shrink, will give her the sense of claustrophobia that she feels so often these days.

And she knows Joe won’t be comfortable. He’ll moan about the lack of a shower, the shared bathroom, the bed, the everything. She knows he’ll want to move, will try to convince her to come up with some excuse and go to a fancy hotel on Saturday night, but, she determines now as she lies here, she will not be swayed. For once she will do what she wants to do.

Downstairs, Emily and Harry are lying on the sofa, smiling at one another as they gently kiss.

“So what do you think of Alice?” Emily strokes his cheek as she marvels at finding such a lovely man in such an unlikely place.

Harry smiles. “She’s not what I expected,” he says. “She’s really down to earth and sweet.”

“She is, isn’t she?”

“What’s her husband like?”

Emily frowns. “I like him but I think he’s probably a bit of a bastard. You kind of have to like him, he’s incredibly charming, but also very controlling with Alice, and I’m sure he’s unfaithful.”

“Why would anyone want to be unfaithful if they were married to someone like Alice?” Harry is confused.

“I know. Alice swears he’s just an old flirt and would never do anything, but I’m not so sure. But the Alice you met today is the real Alice, just incredibly loving and natural and playful, and you’ll see how she changes when Joe’s around.”

“In what way?”

“She’s much quieter, she allows Joe to be the center of attention, and she’s much more careful.”

“Do you think they’re happily married?”

“Oh God. I don’t know. I know that I would never have expected her to marry someone like Joe, or live the life she’s living with Joe, but who really knows what goes on behind closed doors?”

Harry leans forward and kisses Emily again. “That’s enough about Alice. I’m far more interested in you right now.”

“Oh, good.” Emily shivers as Harry lifts her hair and softly kisses her neck. “I was hoping you would say that.”

The cab takes a hard right around a corner, causing Josie to slide sharply into Joe.

There’s an intimate silence in the cab. Josie is wondering whether she should have stopped drinking Cosmopolitans a few hours ago, while Joe is wondering whether they should go to her place or his. Have to be hers, he decides. However much of a bastard he is, he’s too careful to bring anyone back to the house. You never know what they might accidentally on purpose leave behind.

“Just here on the left.” Josie leans forward, gathering her coat and bag as Joe starts to rise. Josie turns to him, knowing what she has to do. The air is filled with promise, she is so attracted to him and he to her, and it would be so easy for her to go to bed with him tonight, but it would be a mistake.

She knows absolutely it would be a mistake.

“Don’t get up,” she says brusquely. “I’ll be fine.”

“Ah. That means I’m not getting invited in for coffee, doesn’t it?” Joe sits back, disappointed but not deterred. If not tonight, another night. He knows he’ll get there in the end.

“You’re not getting invited in for coffee,” Josie smiles, and Joe leans forward just at that moment, and in the darkness of the cab he kisses her. Once, twice. Three soft kisses on her lips. No tongues, nothing overtly sexual, but a guarantee that he will not settle for friendship, that it may not happen tonight, but it will happen. Of that he is absolutely sure.