“Well, that’s not hard,” I point out. Richard is at least six foot two.

“Never thought Lottie would go for a short-arse.”

I have no reply to make to this, so I roll my eyes and carry on reading the airline magazine.

“I looked him up.” Richard mashes an airsick bag between his fingers. “He’s a multimillionaire. Owns a paper company.”

“Mmm. I know.”

“I tried to find out if he’s got a private jet. It didn’t say. Expect he has.”

“Richard, stop torturing yourself.” I finally turn to him. “It’s not about private jets. Or height. There’s no point comparing yourself to him.”

Richard looks at me for a few silent seconds. Then, as though I hadn’t even spoken, he says, “Have you seen his house? They used it for Highton Hall. He’s a multimillionaire and he’s got a stately home.” He scowls. “Bastard.”

“Richard—”

“But he’s pretty puny, don’t you think?” He’s tearing the airsick bag into strips. “Never thought Lottie would go for someone so puny.”

“Richard, stop it!” I exclaim in exasperation. If he’s going to go on like this the whole journey, I’ll go mad.

“Is this our special guest?” A sugary voice interrupts us, and we look up to see an air hostess with a French plait, bearing down on us with a wide smile. She’s holding a teddy bear, an airline wallet, some lollipops, and a huge box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates. “Cheryl told us all about you,” she addresses Noah brightly. “I’ve got some special gifts for you here.”

“Cool! Thank you!” Noah grabs the presents before I can stop him and gasps, “Mummy, look! A big box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates! You can get them!”

“Thanks,” I say awkwardly. “That’s really unnecessary.”

“It’s the least we can do!” the air hostess assures me. “And is this the famous uncle?” She bats her eyelashes at Richard, who stares back with a blank frown.

“My uncle can speak three languages,” says Noah proudly. “Uncle Richard, talk Japanese!”

“A surgeon and a linguist?” The air hostess opens her eyes wide, and I dig my fingers into Richard’s hand before he can protest. I don’t want Noah mortified in public.

“That’s right!” I say quickly. “He’s a very talented man. Thanks so much.” I smile at the air hostess fixedly till she leaves, after a final pat on the head for Noah.

“Fliss, what the hell’s going on?” expostulates Richard in an undertone as soon as she’s walked away.

“Can I have a credit card to put in my wallet?” asks Noah, examining it. “Can I have an AmEx? Can I have points?”

Oh God. He knows about AmEx points at the age of seven? This is mortifying. Almost as bad as when we checked in to a hotel in Rome and, by the time I’d found change for a tip, Noah had already asked to see a different room.

I get out my iPod and hand it to Noah, who whoops with delight and slots the earphones into his ears. Then I lean toward Richard and lower my voice.

“Noah told some made-up story to the ground staff.” I bite my lip, feeling a sudden relief at sharing my worries. “Richard, he’s turned into a complete fantasist. He does it at school. He told one teacher he’d had a heart transplant and another he had a surrogate baby sister.”

“What?” Richard’s face drops.

“I know.”

“Where did he get those kind of ideas, anyway? A surrogate baby sister, for God’s sake?”

“Off a DVD they were playing in the special-needs department,” I say wryly.

“Right.” Richard digests this. “So what story did he tell this lot?” He gestures at the air hostess.

“No idea. Apart from the fact that you play a starring role as a surgeon.” I meet his eye and we suddenly both snort with laughter.

“It’s not funny.” Richard shakes his head, biting his lip.

“It’s awful.”

“Poor little guy.” Richard ruffles Noah’s head, and he looks up briefly from his iPod trance, a beatific smile on his face. “Do they think he’s doing it because of the divorce?”

My residual laughter melts away. “Probably,” I say lightly. “Or, you know, the evil career mother.”

Richard winces. “Sorry.” He pauses. “How’s that all going, anyway? Have you signed the settlement yet?”

I open my mouth to answer honestly—then stop myself. I’ve bored Richard many times over dinner about Daniel. I can see he’s bracing himself for the rant. Why did I never notice people bracing themselves before?

“Oh, fine.” I give him my new saccharine smile. “All good! Let’s not talk about it.”

“Right.” Richard looks taken aback. “Great! So … any new men on the horizon?” His voice suddenly seems to have doubled in volume, and I flinch. Before I can stop myself, I glance at Lorcan, who is sitting by the opposite window, engrossed in his laptop, and thankfully didn’t seem to hear.

“No,” I say. “Nothing. No one.”

I’m telling myself furiously not to look at Lorcan, not to even think about Lorcan. But it’s like telling yourself not to think about a rabbit. Before I can stop them, my eyes have darted to him again. This time, Richard follows my gaze.

“What?” He peers at me in astonishment. “Him?”

“Shhh.”

“Him?”

“No! I mean … yes.” I feel flustered. “Once.”

“Him?” Richard sounds mortally offended. “But he’s on the other side!”

“There aren’t sides.”

Richard is surveying Lorcan with narrowed, suspicious eyes. After a moment, Lorcan looks up. He seems startled to see us both gazing at him. My whole body floods with heat and I abruptly turn away.

“Stop it!” I hiss. “Don’t look at him!”

“You were looking at him too,” points out Richard.

“Only because you were!”

“Fliss, you seem hassled.”

“I’m not hassled,” I say with dignity. “I’m simply trying to be an adult in an adult situation— You’re looking at him again!” I jab at his arm. “Stop!”

“Who is he, exactly?”

“Ben’s oldest friend. A lawyer. Works at his company.” I shrug.

“So … is it a thing?”

“No. It’s not a thing. We just hooked up and then …”

“You unhooked.”

“Exactly.”

“He looks like a bundle of laughs,” says Richard, still surveying Lorcan critically. “I’m being sarcastic,” he adds after a pause.

“Yup.” I nod. “Got that.”

Lorcan looks up again and raises his eyebrows. The next minute he’s unbuckling his seat belt and coming over to where we’re sitting.

“Great,” I murmur. “Thanks, Richard. Hello.” I smile sweetly up at Lorcan. “Enjoying the flight?”

“It’s tremendous. I need to talk to you.” His dark eyes are opaque as they meet mine, and my heart jumps in trepidation.

“Right. OK. But maybe this isn’t the place—”

“Both of you,” he cuts across me, taking in Richard with his glance too. “I’m flying out to Ikonos for good reason. I have some important business to discuss with Ben. He needs to be focused. So if you’re planning to yell at him or beat him up or steal his wife from him, or whatever you’re going to do, I have a request. Please leave it till our meeting is over. Then he’s all yours.”

I feel an instant surge of resentment.

“That’s all you have to say?” I jut out my chin.

“Yes.”

“You’re only interested in your business. Not in the fact that you caused this marriage?”

“I did not cause it,” he retaliates. “And of course the business is my priority.”

“ ‘Of course’?” I echo sarcastically. “Business is more important than marriage? Interesting viewpoint.”

“Right now, yes. And it needs to be Ben’s priority too.”

“Well, don’t worry.” I roll my eyes. “We’re not going to beat him up.”

“I might beat him up.” Richard pounds his palm with his fist. “I might just do that.”

The elderly lady sitting next to me looks appalled. “Excuse me,” she says hurriedly to Lorcan. “Would you like to exchange seats so you can talk to your friends?”

“No, thank you,” I begin, as Lorcan says, “Thank you so much.”

Great. A minute later, Lorcan is buckling up his seat belt next to me while I stare studiously ahead. Just the sense of him so close to me is making my skin prickle. I can smell his aftershave. It’s giving me Proustian flashbacks to that night, which are really not helpful.

“So,” I say shortly. It’s only one syllable, but I think it successfully conveys the message: You’re wrong on everything, from who’s to blame for this marriage, to what exactly I meant that morning, to your priorities generally.

“So,” he replies with a curt nod. I have a feeling he means much the same thing.

“So.” I open my newspaper. I’m hereby going to ignore him for the whole flight.

The only trouble is, I can’t help glancing over at his laptop every so often and seeing phrases that interest me. Richard and Noah are listening to the iPod together while Noah makes inroads into his lollipops. There’s no one else to talk to, even if he is an arrogant bighead on the other team.

“So, what’s going on?” I say at last, with a shrug to indicate I’m really not interested.

“We’re rationalizing the company,” says Lorcan after a pause. “Expanding one part of our business, refinancing another, jettisoning another. It all needs to be done. The paper industry these days—”

“Nightmare,” I agree before I can stop myself. “The price of paper affects us too.”

“Of course. The magazine.” He nods. “Well, then, you’ll know.”

The two of us are making a connection again. I don’t know if this is a mistake or not, but somehow I can’t help it. It’s such a relief to have someone to talk to who isn’t my boss or my staff or my child or my ex-husband or my loopy little sister. He doesn’t need anything from me. That’s the difference. He’s just sitting there, composed, as though he doesn’t give a fuck.