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‘He slept with someone else, Claire,’ Josie said shortly. Josie saw, out of the corner of her eye, Max raise his eyebrows at that, but he said nothing.

Claire grimaced, and reached up her hand to toy with the frayed ends of her hair. ‘Of course,’ she said quickly. ‘Of course, it’s not that I think you should forgive him right away, or ever,’ she added quickly at the look on Josie’s face. ‘I just, well . . .’ She trailed off and Josie’s stomach squirmed. She shouldn’t have been so short with her – it wasn’t Claire’s fault that her brother had decided to throw away their relationship for a pair of knockout heels and a tight red dress.

Claire turned around and waved, and Josie saw Oliver walking towards them, hair fixed in place as always, chest pushed out in the way it always was when he walked. She tried desperately to think of something to say, something to excuse her and Max before his imminent arrival, but came up blank. She glanced up at Max, but he said nothing, only glancing between Oliver and her. No bloody help at all. Claire turned back to face them, and this time looked at Max. She smiled. ‘I’m Claire, by the way,’ she said.

‘Right,’ Josie said quickly, the back of her neck far too hot. ‘Right, sorry, Claire this is—’

‘Josie?’ Too late. Oliver was here, standing frozen with his arms at ninety-degree angles, a cup of steaming liquid held stiffly in each hand. ‘What are you doing here?’ He said it like an accusation, like she’d planned this somehow, deliberately to spoil his fun.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, which dislodged the rose, so that she had to fumble to put it back in place. Oliver’s gaze followed the movement and he frowned when he saw the rose, glancing ever so briefly at Max by her side, who just stood there, hands in pockets, a benign expression on his face. ‘Oh, you know,’ Josie said vaguely, trying to figure out what she should look at and settling for his Adam’s apple. ‘Just fancied a day out.’

‘But you hate this kind of thing,’ Oliver said, still frowning, eyebrows pulling down towards his sharp nose.

Max raised his eyebrows. ‘You do?’ Both Claire and Oliver snapped their focus to him immediately, the fact that he’d spoken for the first time making him impossible to ignore now.

Josie cleared her throat. ‘I, well . . .’

Oliver was staring at Max, his gaze flickering to the top of his head, and Josie just knew he was measuring up the height difference between them. Max smiled, an easy, charming smile, one that he saved for strangers other than her, apparently, and held out a hand to Oliver. ‘Max,’ he stated.

Oliver stared at the outstretched hand for a moment before fumbling with the cups he was holding, taking a good few seconds to offload one to Claire. ‘Right,’ he said, grasping Max’s hand, his eyebrows still pulling together as he looked from Max to Josie and back again. ‘Right, I’m—’

‘Oliver,’ Max said cheerfully. ‘I gathered.’ Josie jolted as Max swung an arm around her, the weight of it settling on her shoulders. ‘It’s so good to meet you at last.’ Josie glanced up at Max, trying very hard not to look stiff and awkward, but he gave nothing away, still smiling amenably at Oliver. ‘I’ve heard all about you of course.’

Oliver’s frown intensified, making his face look even more angular than usual. Claire was still smiling, but she looked uncertain and her gaze was now darting around the three stalls immediately behind them, selling Christmas decorations, jewellery and paintings, maybe wondering if she could make an escape from the meeting she’d initiated. ‘You have?’ Oliver asked, looking at Josie this time, who tried to arrange her expression into something between a smile and an apology, and ending up doing a weird jerk thing with her head in the process.

‘Oh yeah,’ Max continued. ‘Couldn’t believe it when Jose told me about you guys breaking up.’

Jose? She risked a glance up at Max again, but he didn’t meet her gaze.

‘I’m sorry,’ Oliver said, biting out the words, ‘but who exactly are you?’

‘Max,’ he said slowly, and Josie had to suppress the completely inappropriate urge to giggle at the way Max managed to make it sound that condescending.

‘Right,’ Oliver huffed, ‘but—’

Max drew away from Josie slightly so he could look down at her, scandalised. Josie shook her head ever so slightly as she did her best to return the look. ‘You didn’t tell him about me?’

Josie cleared her throat. ‘I, err—’

‘Me and Josie go way back,’ Max continued, giving Josie’s shoulder a little squeeze as if to emphasise the point. ‘Met at a club, oh I don’t know, what was it, Jose, about . . .?’ He looked down at her, his lips twitching as he waited for her to finish the sentence.

‘Err, five years ago?’ Josie offered, taking a sip of her cinnamon gin, which was already cooling down dramatically.

‘In a club?’ Oliver asked, looking at his sister, who merely shrugged, and focused her attention on whatever was inside her cup.

‘Yeah,’ Max said breezily, ‘can’t remember the name of it now, but we hit it off and have been friends ever since. She never mentioned me?’ He rolled his eyes at Josie as if to say come on now and she fought to keep her face straight.

‘No,’ Oliver said shortly. ‘And we’ve been together two—’

‘Years,’ finished Max, nodding, filling in the blank with the obvious guess. ‘Yeah, I know. I’ve been in New York most of that time, you see, moved there a few years ago, but Josie and I stayed in touch. I was hoping to meet you on this visit, but, well.’ He pressed his lips together and Oliver flushed. Claire took an extra-large gulp of her drink, which brought on a minor coughing attack, though she waved Oliver away when he tried to thump her on the back. ‘Anyway,’ Max continued, ‘I’m back in London for a bit, so I thought I’d drag Josie to this.’ He winked at Claire, using her own phrase from a moment ago, and she smiled feebly back, before wiping her chin with her hand. ‘You know, get us in the mood for Christmas.’ He raised his gin in a salute.

Oliver stared at Max mutely for a moment before looking directly at Josie, who was doing her best to look at ease, pressed against Max’s side, the heat of his body travelling between both their coats to get to her. ‘Josie, what—?’

But Max had slipped his phone out of his pocket and was making a show of looking at the time. ‘Oh, Jose, look,’ he said emphatically, shoving the phone under her nose and tapping the top corner where the clock was.

‘Oh damn,’ Josie said, trying to sound confident. ‘We’d, err, better go otherwise we’ll miss the . . .’

‘Ice Bar.’ Max saved her from having to make something up. Max let go of Josie to pat Oliver on the shoulder, who was clearly trying, not very successfully, not to glare at him. ‘Great to meet you both, at last,’ Max added, with a final, winning smile for Claire, who couldn’t seem to help beaming back, though she straightened her face when Oliver glanced at her.