I try to form the question in a way that can't cause offence if I have gotten things horribly wrong, but Michael steps in. “Yes," he says.
“Yes?"
“Yes," he repeats. “I'm married to Charlotte."
“And James...?"
“James too."
Charlotte's face is a picture. “Michael, is this a good idea?"
“Don't worry, Babe," he replies. “Kirstie knows how it works."
Charlotte looks at me, then at Michael, then back at me. “Do you two know each other?"
“Kirstie and I, James too, know each other from um... my and James' playful past..."
Charlotte bursts out laughing. “Ah, gotcha. You met at the clubs and you...?"
“Yes," I admit. “That's not a problem for you, is it?"
“Not at all." she rests her hand on mine, giving it a squeeze. “James, Michael and I established long ago that the Past is the Past. We
