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be no good outcome, no happy ever after.
    Usually Will never asked such personal questions, but alcohol had clearly liberated him from his usual caution and his next question completely floored Carmen: ‘So why did you split up?’
    For a moment she was speechless, then she said quietly, ‘I know we have this banter thing between us where we laugh at each other and flirt, but I can’t talk about this. Really, cannot talk about it.’ She was genuinely rattled now, the fizz of lust replaced with the all-too-familiar feeling of bitter anguish.
    Will seemed to realise he’d overstepped a line. He lightly touched her arm. ‘Sorry, Carmen.’ He was serious for once, looking at her intently. ‘I guess I want us to move beyond our banter.’
    Just a few minutes ago Carmen would have said exactly the same, but right now his questions about her marriage had made her clam up, fold in on herself. ‘Sure,’ she said curtly. ‘Let’s catch up with the others. I don’t want Dirty Sam speculating about what we’re up to.’ And she walked briskly towards her friends.
    Rico’s restaurant was downstairs from the café. It was small with just ten tables, decked out with red-and-white tablecloths. Italian flags adorned the walls, along with black-and-white photographs of Sophia Loren and various players from AC Milan. It was unpretentious and the food was delicious. Mamma Mia adored Will and in his honour had decorated the entire restaurant with balloons. There was even a silver-and-blue banner emblazoned with ‘Happy birthday, Will!’ over the door. As soon as she saw him she enfolded him in a great bear hug, nearly smothering him with her formidable bosom. ‘Happy birthday, my darling boy!’
    Carmen smiled as she watched Mamma Mia fussover Will, demanding that he order the most expensive items off the menu and insisting on pouring him a very generous glass of Barolo. Carmen had foiled Lottie’s plan to have her next to Will by sitting at the opposite end of the table to him, next to Trish and Lottie. She felt subdued and barely ate any of her penne arrabbiata, though she knew she risked incurring the wrath of Mamma Mia who would demand to know why she hadn’t finished her signature dish. Every now and then she would catch Will looking at her and she could tell he was wondering what had happened to flirty Carmen.
    â€˜What’s the matter?’ Lottie whispered, while Will’s attention was taken up with Dirty Sam recounting his recent trip to a lap-dancing club, which he claimed was for research for one of his clients. No one believed him.
    â€˜Nothing,’ Carmen muttered. ‘Just the appraisal. It was really awful, Lottie.’ This was only partly a lie – the appraisal
had
been awful, it was just that the marriage question had been worse.
    â€˜Forget about it!’ Lottie urged her, then checked Will wasn’t looking over as she added, ‘Will really likes you, Carmen. He spent the whole time we were in the Ship wondering where you were and then his face lit up when he saw you.’
    â€˜â€œHis face lit up”! Lottie, have you got a night job writing for Mills & Boon?’
    â€˜Well, it’s classier than saying he’s got the horn for you, isn’t it?’ Lottie demanded.
    â€˜Though he has as well, like a massive—’
    â€˜Lottie!’ Carmen cut in. ‘You’re not supposed to know about such things, let alone talk about them!’
    Lottie shrugged. ‘I can still appreciate the male form objectively, and I imagine Will has a very fine male form.’
    â€˜What are you talking about?’ Will demanded from across the table. Mamma Mia was continuing to pour Barolo into his glass as if it was Ribena.
    â€˜Your member, actually.’ Carmen couldn’t resist it. It was too perfect a comedy moment, even sunk into a decline as she was.
    She got a disconcerted look