‘How’s chauffeuring for a career?’

‘I’d only do it for her but it makes me feel quite useful.’

‘I’m sure you are.’

‘Wouldn’t mind going back to portering for a bit. I really liked that, it’s another useful job, in spite of what Grandpa said.’

‘Oh, I can just guess what he said. Portering is fine and necessary, just not for his grandson. Ignore him. If you’re not going to make the coffee, will you sit down, you’re giving me indigestion.’

‘Sorry. You got any peanuts?’

‘I never have peanuts. There’s cheese, got it today on the way home. Good cheese shop that new one.’

It went on, chit-chat, about the merits of Brie versus Camembert, Wensleydale versus Cheddar. Sam found the crackers and ate in silence, demolishing the Brie, digging deep into the butter dish.

‘More in the fridge.’

‘Thanks.’ And then, his mouth still half full, he said, ‘Actually, I went into BG to see them when I was waiting for Mum. Portering is camaraderie, people stay. Only one of the guys I worked with had left.’

Simon ate slowly.

‘Saw Rosie there.’

He crammed his mouth full again, head down.

‘Ah.’ And it was all clear.

‘Some junior doc, never seen him before. Well, I wouldn’t have. Bastard.’

He jammed his knife hard into the cheese, and it hit the plate below with a screech, making them both wince.

‘You could have read it wrong. You know hospitals, everyone is under pressure, you need friends.’

‘Oh sure, absolutely.’

‘More than friends?’

‘Seemed like it to me.’

‘Did she see you?’

‘Yeah, and looked right through me. I wasn’t there, I didn’t exist.’

Serrailler pushed his plate away. ‘I’m sorry, Sam, I really am. Nothing else to say. It’s a bugger.’

‘Yeah. And don’t tell me I’ll get over it, plenty more fish in the sea, she’s not worth it, blah-blah.’

‘Does Cat know?’

‘No and –’

‘Don’t even say it. Of course I won’t tell her. We’re a close family but I’ve never wanted the “everyone tells everyone else everything, no secrets” thing. Your life is yours, you talk or not, to whoever you choose. Or not. Cheese seems to have vanished.’

‘Plenty of that weird Cornish stuff with nettles round it.’

‘Yarg. You don’t know what you’re missing. But if you go back to portering, you risk seeing Rosie every day and that might not be the best idea?’

‘She qualifies soon.’

‘Still.’

‘And it’s a big place. What do you do, Si?’

‘When?’

‘When it happens to you. I mean, when you get dumped.’

But he did not wait for an answer, probably, Simon thought, because he did not really want to know.