He thought she was just talking about how busy they’ve been. But no, she had to mention Viv. His face closes off immediately, and he puts his fork down so he can pick his wine up.

A moment later, he shrugs a shoulder, as if it doesn’t matter at all.

‘Keats is nearly done. Might take some time off when we’ve seen the back of him.’

As if it’ll be that easy. As if Keats, all this time, has just been another bloke hanging around the place. And it’s a nod to defiance as well. This place is going to survive past that bastard.

At least, that’s still the public face he’s choosing to show.