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who could so obviously overpower you with their bare hands. Tim had been perfect. Lean and slender, like a willow tree blowing in the breeze.

Tim wasn’t here, she told herself again, taking a swig of her drink. She looked back to Liam. He had nice eyes, she supposed, though they were rather small and close-set. His face was pleasant enough, though his cheeks were on the flabby side. Porcine.

‘What was that?’ asked Liam, his voice surprisingly sharp.

Damn. She’d spoken out loud. ‘Pour time,’ she said, her voice overly bright, like a highlighter over newsprint. She downed her drink and refilled Liam’s glass, then emptied the rest of the bottle into her own.

‘I’ll get another,’ said Liam, clicking his fingers at a waitress and pointing at the bottle. The waitress winced and went to fetch the drinks. ‘Two bottles,’ said Liam, more to himself than to Amy. ‘It’s going well.’

Amy passed no comment. She sipped a fresh glass of Prosecco and discovered she was starting to enjoy the taste. Liam continued to talk and she found her glass was almost empty, as if there were a leak somewhere. He refilled it for her.

‘Have you ever been betrayed?’ interrupted Amy, her glass suddenly almost empty again. She held it up and examined the bottom for the leak. The room was too bright, and she blinked hard to stop it spinning.

‘What?’ said Liam.

‘Betrayed,’ said Amy, more slowly. ‘My best friend and my boyfriend ran away together,’ she said, letting the words out without thinking.

‘That’s awful,’ said Liam.

‘Bastards,’ said Amy. She gestured with her glass and Prosecco swilled out over her hand. Liam refilled her glass again.

‘You know the best way to get over someone . . . ’ said Liam.

Amy leaned forwards. ‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘Well, you know . . . ’ Liam looked uncomfortable.

‘No,’ said Amy, ‘I most certainly do not know. It’s not by collecting mugs.’ She laughed at herself and Liam looked confused.

‘Get under someone,’ he said eventually. Amy looked at him blankly. ‘It’s just an expression,’ he said.

‘Oh, I get it,’ said Amy, finding it very funny. She stopped laughing and looked at him. ‘You mean sex.’

Liam coughed awkwardly and a little Prosecco escaped his lips and flung itself at Amy.

‘Let’s get another bottle,’ said Amy.

‘Do you want to have something to eat, maybe?’ said Liam.

‘There’s a little place I know—’

‘No,’ said Amy. She waved at the waitress who nodded an acknowledgement. ‘Just drink.’ She looked at Liam. ‘I haven’t been this drunk for years,’ she said. ‘It’s good.’

Something was on her leg. She looked down. It was Liam’s hand, his porky little fingers resting on her knee. She felt suddenly sick. ‘I need to go home,’ she said, standing up. ‘Scarlett needs me.’

‘But you’ve just ordered another bottle,’ said Liam, sounding annoyed. ‘I’ll have to pay for that.’

‘Goodbye,’ said Amy. She grabbed her bag and hurried outside. What she needed was fresh air. She breathed in deeply outside the bar. It was dark already; perhaps this date had lasted longer than she’d thought. Amy decided to treat herself to a taxi. She didn’t fancy trying to get the train home in this state. She looked around but couldn’t see one. She took a step forwards, but lost her balance.

‘I’ve got you,’ said Liam. She didn’t remember him coming out, but there he was, his arm around her waist.

‘Don’t touch me,’ she said, shying away at the contact.

‘But I thought . . . ’

A taxi drove past and Amy waved at it. It stopped for her and she climbed in.

‘Great date, anyway,’ said Liam, peering through the window. ‘Are you free Friday?’

Amy pressed the button and the window closed. The taxi took her away, into the night.

‘Expecting a phone call, Amy?’ Carthika was sitting across from her in the office the next day, grinning. ‘After your hot date?’

‘What are you talking about?’ said Amy, putting down her phone. She realised she had been staring at it for rather a long time.

‘He’ll probably text,’ continued Carthika. ‘Or send a message on social. Although he could just surprise you at your desk.’

‘I don’t know who you’re talking about,’ said Amy. Her head was pounding. Surely Liam hadn’t told Carthika? She must just be being her usual annoying self.

‘More than one on the go?’ asked Carthika. ‘You’re a dark horse, Amy Ashton.’ Zoe giggled.

‘Don’t you have work to do?’ asked Amy. Of course the phone chose that moment to finally ring, and Amy found herself scurrying away to an empty meeting room to the amusement of her colleagues.

Richard had bumped into her that morning outside her house. Amy had only just held it together while he told her that he and Charles had spent the previous evening delving through layer upon layer of Google to find out what they could about the model of JCB that Charles had identified. He was right. It had tracks, and should have had wheels. It had been modified.

Richard said that he’d contact the manufacturer for her today to go through the records. It felt strange to Amy to have someone help her like that, but also rather nice.

‘Hello?’ said Amy, a question in her voice, although she could see it was Richard calling. She closed the door to the meeting room, which was really just a corner of the office sealed off with glass. It always reminded her of a large shower cubicle.

‘Don’t ask me how,’ said Richard, ‘but I’ve found it. In fact, ask me how.’

‘You’ve found it?’ asked Amy. She felt a little sick and sank down into a chair.

‘You could call me the Sherlock Holmes of the construction world,’ continued Richard, merrily. ‘I rang the JCB head office and described a modification that I wanted, delineating just what Charles noticed in the picture, and they passed me around a bit, and eventually I got through to the right department. And I was able to get a history of where that machine had been, and then with a search dating to around the

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