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Hannah’s place was insane .

‘This is the life, isn’t it?’ said Mira. ‘It’s still so warm out here – and it’s kind of soothing, listening to the rain hammering on the roof.’

‘I know. I can’t believe how relaxed I feel already,’ said Naya.

He made a soft grunt of agreement, then took a long, deep puff on his vape, blew it out of his mouth.

Mira was right: this was the life. Already the worries of the past few days seemed like they belonged to another life – another person.

Now, they just needed Hannah to get here, and everything would be exactly as it was supposed to be.

He’d leave here just as Hannah had promised: transformed.

‘And that food,’ he said. ‘Paola is a genius. I ate like a king at dinner – if we get fed like that every day, you guys are going to have to roll me back to the airport.’

Both women laughed, just as the sliding French doors whooshed open behind them. Ben turned and smiled at Luisa as she walked towards him.

‘Sorry, Ben, you cannot smoke out here,’ she said, with an apologetic bob of her head.

‘Oh, I’m not smoking,’ laughed Ben. ‘It’s just a vape.’

‘Ah, no vaping either – I am very sorry,’ Luisa said. ‘This is Hannah’s rules.’

Hannah’s rules, huh? Well, in that case, he’d better do as he was told.

‘No problem,’ he said, flashing Luisa his broadest smile and tucking away his vape.

He didn’t need it now, anyway: at just the mention of Hannah’s name, Ben felt the familiar buzz of excitement that she seemed to stir in him.

He might not even need the pill packet he’d tucked carefully into the side pocket of his suitcase.

‘Ben, I can take you for your treatment now?’ said Luisa. ‘We have prepared for you an aromatherapy massage with The Hideaway’s personal masseuse, Isabel.’ Luisa gestured inside the house. ‘She is waiting for you in one of our treatment rooms.’

‘Oh, lucky you, Ben,’ murmured Naya lazily. ‘I can’t wait to have mine – that will be the perfect end to this evening.’

Ben felt another tingle of anticipation.

This place got better and better. He’d never needed a massage more, after the stress of the past few days, plus that long-ass plane ride and the bumpy drive to The Hideaway.

He stretched upwards on the sunbed, swung his legs to the floor and luxuriated in a long stretch, groaning as he did.

‘It looks like you are already feeling relaxed?’ said Luisa with a gentle laugh. ‘I am happy to see this.’

He smiled and followed Luisa inside, registering the cold shock of the air conditioning as he stepped through the sliding doors.

Its artificial coolness brought his high-rise office block in Silicon Hills to mind – the image slamming into his brain before he could stop it; and with it the memory of Trish, the way she’d looked at him across her mahogany desk just a few days ago, Ben staring at the floor, hands twisting in his lap.

No. Stop it, Ben. Put the thoughts away. He couldn’t let them cross his mind now, distract him from such a great evening.

Luisa, walking in front of him through the house, came to a stop outside a door that led off the back of the main kitchen and living room area.

It opened into a small, windowless, pure white treatment room with a massage bed in its centre, glass diffusers billowing out lemongrass fragrance on a corner shelf, gentle spa music playing from a cream, oval-shaped speaker.

The woman standing in the room looked to be in her late forties, short and squat with bobbed black hair and strong-looking forearms emerging from her white tunic.

‘This is Isabel,’ said Luisa. ‘Ben, you filled in the treatment forms, yes? Telling us about medical history, giving your consent for products. You did this when you arrived?’

‘Yeah,’ said Ben. ‘And I’m good with anything – come on then, Isabel, do your worst on these aching muscles.’ He gave her a wink.

‘ Hola ,’ said Isabel, returning his smile. ‘Of course. Please, change into this robe, then lie down on your front and place your head into the hole here. I will give you a moment of privacy.’

Luisa and Isabel stepped outside of the room, closing the door gently behind them, and Ben did as he was told, stripping out of his shirt and shorts, slipping into the robe, enjoying the touch of soft fabric on his skin.

A moment later, Isabel returned, lathered her hands with sweet-smelling oil and got to work, performing long, gliding strokes along the taut muscles of his back and shoulders.

‘This pressure is good?’ she asked, after a moment of kneading with increasing firmness.

‘Mmm. Just right, thanks.’

As he lay there, lulled by the soft music and rhythmic movements, Ben’s mind began to drift again, out of his control. The same memory that had been playing on repeat was coming back to taunt him, even here, blissed out on a massage table, hundreds of miles away from where it had all played out.

How could Trish have done it? How could she have believed what she heard – and acted on it so fast?

She didn’t even know the facts – the background.

And even with what she knew, surely her decision was too rash.

Ben had brought more new business to that overhyped fintech in the past two years than his predecessor had in the decade before.

Ben lived and breathed that job: the high of new prospects, the rush of sealing deals.

Now he was here, about as far from a client meeting in a hushed boardroom as he could get.

With the image of Trish in his mind – the memory of what had happened right before he’d come here – Ben’s fingers curled themselves into fists.

‘Try to relax, please, Ben,’ said Isabel. ‘You are tensing your whole body.’

‘Ah – sorry. Of course,’ he said, doing his best to breathe more deeply, to stretch his hands back out.

This wasn’t the time, or the place, to go over all that.

It was in the past. While he was here, and with Hannah’s help, he could start to properly put all of this behind him.

Yes , he reminded himself. He was here now. And he was going to get exactly what he came for.